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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233372">and i fought time (it won in a landslide)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/serkets/pseuds/serkets'>serkets</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Relationship, F/F, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Meteorstuck, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, also there is dyke drama because of course there is, basically just me writing the vriska centric retcon meteor journey i want to see in the world, literally just. all the dynamics between the girls but mostly focused on vrisrezi, vriska and terezi transcend quadrants we know this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:40:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/serkets/pseuds/serkets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You wait for her to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on and you can’t help but panic a little bit. Her expression is unreadable, and you’re starting to worry that this was all a mistake, that she’s already regretting sparing you (because who wouldn’t, honestly, says a nasty little voice in your head, you’re a killer and a monster and she has always been too good for you), when finally, after what feels like sweeps, she sticks her hand out to you. </p><p>--</p><p>aka: METE8RSTUCK, VRISKA EDITION, in which vriska and terezi spend three years trying to sort their shit out. featuring struggles with emotional honesty, complicated girls in love, an extended dnd campaign, and Big Moral Questions, all as one vriska serket sees it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kanaya Maryam &amp; Vriska Serket, Rose Lalonde &amp; Vriska Serket, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope &amp; Vriska Serket, Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PROLOGUE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Unlike feelings, blood gets realer when you feel it.</p><p>-Troll Ocean Vuong</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is how it happens. </p><p>You are standing on a platform across from the only person who has ever understood you, and she is gripping her cane-sword with shaking hands. She is staring at you, eyes red and blank behind her glasses, and she is telling you she can’t let you leave. And then she is pulling out her coin, the same coin that you have watched her flip hundreds of times, and she is giving you a choice: heads, you stay, scratch, you go. </p><p>Now it is your turn to stare, and before long you are laughing, laughing, laughing, because you are the <em> Thief of Light</em>, you are a god of fortune; you will steal her luck before the coin hits the ground. You will win, you will abscond, and you will be a hero! You are not an idiot -- you can guess that her intent is to kill you if you leave, to run her sword clean and true through your back and listen to you take your final breath at her hand. But you also know her. You grew up alongside her, you spent sweeps fighting and killing with her, and you are confident in one thing: <em> she will not be able to do it</em>. </p><p>She flips. The coin lands scratch-side-up and you smile. You ignore the tiny part of you that aches when you look at her -- now is not the time for wrigglerish feelings, you’ve got a monster to kill -- and you turn around. You give her a wave before you go, triumph in your grin, and then --</p><p>Oh.</p><p>You feel metal run through you, harsh and cold, and you are distantly amused to find that this hurts much less than it did the last time you died. Leave it to Terezi to give you a quick, clean death, despite everything you’ve done -- she is just, but she is also kind; you have always known this to be true. You had thought, only minutes ago, that this truth would stop her from killing you.</p><p>You were wrong.</p><p><em> Didn’t think you had it in you, Pyrope,</em> you think, and you fall.</p><p>--</p><p>No.</p><p>This is how it happens. </p><p>You are turning to leave, and you are hearing the scrape of her blade against its sheath as she pulls out her sword, and you are processing the fact that <em> she’s actually going to do it</em>, when a voice rings out and a fist collides with your face and you fly, flip, skid across the floor, and everything goes black.</p><p>When you wake up, disoriented as all hell, she has her arm around you. She has her <em> arm around you</em>, despite the fact that a few minutes ago she was ready to kill you. She is trembling slightly; belatedly, you realize that you are too. Without thinking -- you did just get your shit rocked, after all, so you think you have an excuse to make some questionable judgement calls -- you lean into her touch. It’s tender, and for a moment you feel like you’re five sweeps old again, sitting in your respiteblock after feeding your lusus her most recent meal <em> , </em> trying not to shake as Terezi moves a hand slowly up and down your spine. You had never allowed anyone else to see you like that; she was the only one who understood what it did to you to feed them to her, the only one you <em> let </em> understand. You had never had to explain: in fact, you had always lied, told her the shaking was no big deal, just a reaction to the excess adrenaline from the thrill of the fight. She had been tactful enough not to call you on your bullshit -- she always knew when you were lying -- but she had traced tentative circles on your back all the same until the shaking stopped.</p><p>And then, every time, you had stood up and brushed her off as if nothing had happened, trying not to let your voice waver as you made some sort of grand statement about the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of fatal live action role-playing. To her credit, she never pushed you to say more, even though you could tell she wanted to. You respected her for that. You had always respected her.</p><p>And now she is touching you in that tender way once again, and you don’t think you have it in you right now to put on the bravado, so you stay silent. Your head is spinning and you’re still not quite sure what actually happened, but you are alive and holy shit, Terezi is holding you. She is saying something to you softly that you are too dazed to understand, and you blink hard and try to focus on her words, your vision swimming in and out of focus. </p><p>“...Vriska? Vriska, can you hear me? Alternia to Serket, hello, are you in there or did Egbert knock you upside the pan so hard that you don’t know who you are anymore?” Her words are harsh, but underneath them her tone is gentle, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you were detecting just a little bit of fear in her voice. You manage a weak smile, and she sags against you slightly in relief. </p><p>“‘M fine,” you say groggily, and then, “What the fuck was that?” Your vision has cleared enough that you can make out the shapes of Karkat and Kanaya in the distance, and then you register Terezi’s question and connect it to the flash of blue you saw before you were knocked unconscious and <em> holy shit</em>, was <em> Egbert </em>here? You don’t see him now, but you could swear you saw his face in the split second before what appeared to be his fist collided with what was definitely your skull. Did you hallucinate that? You must have hallucinated that. You groan a little and rub at your forehead. </p><p>“Good question!” You can tell she’s trying to sound cheerful, but her tone rings false, uncertainty lurking just below its surface. She stands up abruptly, and you definitely don’t wince at the sudden lack of contact, because that would be pathetic, and you are <em> not </em> pathetic. If you make any kind of involuntary movement, it is purely a coincidence. “I’m not completely sure. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say shenanigans were involved, but the jury's out on the specifics. From my perspective, Egbert showed up, punched the shit out of you, handed me a scarf full of instructions written in my own blood, and left. Something about fixing my mistakes, and doomed timelines, and everyone dying -- your typical bullshit. That’s really all I got.”</p><p>You nod. You open your mouth, ready to crack a joke about John not knowing his own strength (because even you have to admit that his punch hurt like a bitch), or maybe rib her a little about Egbert’s clear superiority over her lame Strider boy, but to your horror you find yourself saying something else entirely.</p><p>“You were really gonna do it, huh?” you ask, and <em> fuck</em>, you did not mean to say that. You really did not mean to say that.</p><p>She freezes. You suddenly feel all too aware of the distance she has put between you, and you find yourself shivering slightly, missing the feeling of her warmer body against yours.</p><p>“Relax, Pyrope,” you continue when she does not respond, trying your best to sound nonchalant. “I’m impressed! Really, I didn’t think you had it in you.”</p><p>“You were going to get us all killed,” she points out, but her voice lacks its usual cheery conviction. “I -- I was going to do what I had to do. Or, what I thought I had to do, I guess. Someone needed to stop you, and that seemed like the only way, so… yeah. I was gonna do it.”</p><p>She isn’t looking at you, which wouldn't be that big of a deal considering the fact that she can’t really <em> look </em> at anything, except for the fact that you have never known Terezi to shy away from your gaze. Even minutes before, when she had been ready to drive her sword through your back, she had kept eye contact, forcing you to stare at the scars you had given her. You wonder what has made things different now.</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t,” you say quietly, and it feels a little too much like a confession, but you’re dazed and tired and your head hurts <em> so fucking much </em> and you just can’t be bothered to put on a whole act right now. Not when Terezi won’t look at you. Not when you’ve just narrowly avoided permanent death by canesword. </p><p>You wait for her to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on and you can’t help but panic a little bit. Her expression is unreadable, and you’re starting to worry that this was all a mistake, that she’s already regretting sparing you (<em>because who wouldn’t, honestly</em>, says a nasty little voice in your head, <em> you’re a killer and a monster and she has always been too good for you</em>), when finally, after what feels like sweeps, she sticks her hand out to you. You grab onto it, trying not to think about how good it feels to touch her again, and she looks down at you and smiles softly. You can’t help but grin back as you squeeze her hand a little tighter.</p><p>“Shut up, Serket,” she says, her smile widening, and she pulls you to your feet.</p><p>--</p><p>You are on the way to the Green Sun, hurtling through Paradox Space at a truly nauseating speed thanks to the power of Sollux’s psiionics, before she speaks to you again. She hasn’t been ignoring you, necessarily, there’s just been more important matters at hand -- namely, an explanation of, as Karkat had put it, “WHATEVER THE FUCK KIND OF DUMBASS BULLSHIT JUST WENT DOWN HERE”, followed by a mission to subdue and hogtie Gamzee. When the others had regarded you with open hostility during Terezi’s speech, she had brushed her hand against yours and fixed her blank, unsettling stare on them. That had shut them down pretty quick. And then the Green Sun had appeared in the distance, and everyone had scrambled to their places as Sollux began to pilot the meteor at his own expense. </p><p>Now, as the bright green dot in the distance grows larger and larger, Terezi comes up behind you and places her hand on your shoulder once again. You startle at the sudden contact and she pulls her hand away, which is not what you want at all, and before you can stop yourself you catch her hand in your own and place it back on your shoulder. You can feel her grinning at you, not the soft smiles she’s been giving you ever since you came to, but a honest-to-god trademark Pyrope Shit-Eating Grin. You turn to her and roll your eyes, but she just smiles wider.</p><p>“You’re not off the hook, you know,” she says. “You still killed Tavros! Just because that particular murder may have been overshadowed by the rest of our friends going off the rails doesn’t mean I’m going to let it slide. A legislacerator does not allow crimes to go unpunished!”</p><p>You tense. She’s still smiling unsettlingly at you, but her tone is sincere, and you can’t really bring yourself to disagree with her. If you’re honest with yourself -- and you so rarely are, but hey, there’s a first time for everything -- you felt like shit the second you shoved the lance through Tavros’ chest. He had been weak, and stupid, and irritating as hell, but he had also been kind, and you were supposed to be his friend. You’re realizing, with a pain in your chest that reminds you of the mornings after a particularly gruesome feeding, that he didn’t deserve to die. Even worse, you’re realizing that maybe <em> you </em> did: the pendulum must have swung Just when she killed you, otherwise you wouldn’t have stayed dead. You don’t really know how you’re going to live with the knowledge that Paradox Space looked at you and saw not a hero, but a villain; you had always thought you would go out Heroic, if you went out at all. You’re beginning to realize that there is a lot you were wrong about.</p><p>“So, what?” you eventually respond, because being honest with yourself is one thing, and being honest with Terezi is another entirely. “Did you change your mind about killing me? Seems like a bit of a waste for your future self -- or doomed self, or whatever she was -- to go to all this trouble to stop you from murdering me just so you can do it an hour later than originally planned!” </p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, Serket, I’m banned from killing you! I couldn’t even do it if I wanted to.” If your heart skips a little bit at the sentiment implicit in her statement -- <em> she doesn’t want to kill you </em> -- well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. “I will have to find other ways to bring you to justice. Perhaps I will consult the humans about their weak and terrible legal system for inspiration. Perhaps I will just have to make you clean my respiteblock for me for the entirety of our journey, or until I deem you sufficiently repentant! There are many options.”</p><p>“Well shit, Pyrope, are you saying if I had just offered to clean your respiteblock the first time you would have reconsidered blowing one of my limbs off? Goddamn, you should’ve just asked!” </p><p>She laughs then, high and clear and a little terrifying, and it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. It occurs to you that it’s a bit inappropriate to be joking about something like this, and the pang of guilt inside you is no duller than it was a minute ago, but Terezi has her hand on your shoulder and she’s <em> talking </em> to you, the way she used to when you were FLARP partners, before she took your arm and your eye and you took her sight and everything between you went to shit. You place your hand on top of hers again.</p><p>“I’m gonna make up for it,” you say fiercely, and you stare into her eyes, swallowing hard as you gaze into the blank red expanse. You want to be good. You want to be worthy. “I promise. You saved me for a reason, right? Obviously I’m supposed to be important somehow, because without me everyone died. <em> You </em> died. So I’m not gonna let that happen, Terezi, I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not going to regret bringing me back. You won’t! I’m going to fix things, you’ll see, I’ve got irons in the fire already, I’ve been planning since I woke up --”</p><p>She cuts you off by pulling you into a bone crushing hug, and, oh, you hadn’t realized how much you missed this. It’s brief, and really quite painful, but it makes your bloodpusher swell and your eyes sting a little all the same. You think you hear her sniffle a little when she pulls away, but it’s so quiet you could just as easily have imagined it. You try to search her face for any discernible emotion, but her expression is carefully blank, eyes hiding behind her glasses. Even if you could see her eyes right now, they wouldn’t tell you much anyway -- you had made sure of that sweeps ago. You know she has grown to love her blindness, but you think of her crawling back to her hive, skin raw and bloody from the rays of the Alternian sun, suffering because of you, and you kind of want to throw up. As if she can tell that you’re seconds away from an honest-to-god self-loathing spiral, she grabs your hand. She always knew how to pull you out of it when things got too dark in your head.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here, Vriska,” she says, and you give her a small smile, a soft one that is decidedly unlike you. You know she can’t see it, but she must feel it, because she smiles back.</p><p>“Me too,” you say, and you try to believe it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HELLOOOO welcome to hell aka my vriska pov vrisrezi meteorfic! this is a fairly short prologue, but i have the next couple chapters written and the whole thing is outlined, so there will be more to come soon. i'm very invested in writing this so i do very much plan on finishing it within a relatively reasonable timeframe, but that being said i am also a college student and can't promise a Specific update schedule. i'm aiming for every 1-2 weeks but we shall see! chapter count is subject to change, but it should be roughly accurate. this fic was very much inspired by the wonderful katia <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayleavestars">@mayleavestars</a>' <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25466323/">longform vrisrezi meteorfic</a>, which you have probably read already, but if you haven't, check it out!! </p><p>title is from timefighter by lucy dacus, check her out as well i beg of u</p><p>also feel free to follow me on twitter if u want, i tweet about vrisrezi nearly constantly lmfao &gt;:] <a href="https://twitter.com/vrskaserket">@vrskaserket!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. CHAPTER ONE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You try not to think about the way Karkat stared daggers at you on the rooftop of the meteor or the way Kanaya refused to look at you for even a second, and you especially try not to think about the fact that your best friend in the world, the only person who you had ever allowed to see past the web of bravado you so had expertly woven around yourself, was seconds away from literally stabbing you in the back. The worst part, you remind yourself angrily, is that you cannot fault her for that.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warnings for this chapter: vriska's childhood and all that entails (descriptions of murder, manipulation/abuse, brief mention of suicidal ideation). it's a fairly short section but just be aware!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first meeting with the humans goes about as well as you’d expect. You recognize them from the time you spent peering over Terezi and Kanaya’s shoulders back in the lab, Dave in his ridiculous sunglasses and Rose with her dark lipstick, which is all you can really see anyway given that her god tier hood obscures half of her face. There are arguments and greetings and even a few hugs, and then the conversation turns to the question of how to determine a leader. You’re ready to volunteer, but before you can do so, Aradia tells the group to defer to Rose. You feel anger bubbling up inside you, hot and thick -- you will not be outshone by another Light player. This is <em> your </em> domain. <em> She’s a Seer</em>, you tell yourself, <em> and you're a Thief. An obviously superior class! There’s no competition!  </em></p><p>And then she opens her mouth, and shit, you think there might be a little competition. Rose is well spoken and assertive and frankly, a little terrifying, and you try not to notice the nauseatingly reverent look Kanaya is giving her as she speaks. It reminds you of the way she used to look at you, back when you were in diamonds on Alternia; you’d come over for a fitting for your newest FLARP costume and she would stand in front of you, measuring your too-lanky body with pins held between her perfectly painted lips. When she was finished, she would step back and just <em> look </em> at you, soft and starry-eyed and a tiny bit hopeful. You had pretended not to know what that meant, then, and had teased her instead (<em>god, Fussyfangs, stare much? </em> ), and then you had worn the dress she sewed you to kiss Tavros, for no real reason other than it felt like it was what you were <em> supposed </em> to do, and she had stopped speaking to you altogether. You had pretended not to know why she did that, either. </p><p>Now, though, now she is staring at Rose, who has been droning on for the last ten minutes about the Green Sun and the Scratch and void sessions and stupid boring Seer powers, and Kanaya looks positively enraptured. And then Rose mentions that you’re going to be on this meteor for three years, which turns out to be a <em> sweep and a fucking half</em>, and the thought of putting up with this for that long has you ready to slam your pan into the nearest wall and knock yourself unconscious again. You settle for tuning out Rose’s voice instead, until Aradia says something that catches your attention. </p><p>“...I won’t be coming with you,” she’s saying. “Sollux and I have work to do! Nothing personal, just a different journey. Maybe we’ll meet in some dream bubbles along the way! But for now, you all should get ready to fulfill your quest, and Sollux and I will fulfill ours.”</p><p>“Maybe I should go with you,” Kanaya says, and you catch a look of hurt confusion on Rose’s face, which makes you want to gag a little. “I don’t think I’m going to be of much use on this meteor, and besides, the idea of a sweep and a half of darkness is rather... disheartening for someone like me.”</p><p>Rose and Aradia both go to protest, gently chiding Kanaya into agreeing to stay, and you nudge Terezi, who is standing next to you. You make a face that you know she can’t see, but she must sense your exaggerated expression somehow, because she sticks her tongue out at you in a way that says <em> get a load of these two, god, get a room</em>. You stifle a giggle before turning back to the group, doing your best to keep your expression neutral. </p><p>And then everyone is saying goodbye, and given that you have not been able to bring yourself to make eye contact with Aradia or Sollux -- Sollux’s ghost? Half ghost? Honestly, you have no fucking idea -- this entire time, you figure it’d be better to avoid any kind of awkward farewell and decide to use the chaos to slip away unseen. You retreat from the roof down into the maze of corridors deeper within the meteor, tracing the familiar path back to the room you’ve claimed as your own. </p><p>When you get there, you sit down, back against the wall, and squeeze your eyes shut. There’s a dangerous pricking behind your eyelids, but you hold it back. You are not going to cry. You try not to think about the way Karkat stared daggers at you on the rooftop of the meteor or the way Kanaya refused to look at you for even a second, and you especially try not to think about the fact that your best friend in the world, the only person who you had ever allowed to see past the web of bravado you so had expertly woven around yourself, was seconds away from literally stabbing you in the back. The worst part, you remind yourself angrily, is that you cannot fault her for that. Your death was Just. The unseen laws of paradox space had validated what you have feared for years: you are not good. You are not worthy. You are not a hero. You are six sweeps old, you have killed more people than you can count, and the weight of what you’ve done is crushing you. It is <em> crushing </em> you, and fuck it, you let a tear slip out of your eye, because there’s no one around to see you and you’re already well aware of how pathetic you are.</p><p>You remember the first time you killed. It had been sloppy, and slow, and the young rustblood troll had screamed and screamed, for their lusus, for their teammates, for <em> anyone </em> to save them from you. You had stabbed them over and over, trying anything to make the screaming stop -- you didn’t have your dice yet, your specibus then was daggerkind, a woefully inefficient killing tool, especially in the hands of an inexperienced wriggler like you who was not yet sure where to hit to kill. <em> She </em> had whispered in your mind the whole time, shrieking at you through clicks and hisses to <em> finish it, finish it, I’m hungry you stupid little girl, you are weak, pathetic, kill him, finishitfinishitfinishit -- </em> and you had done as she said. You had driven your knife into his throat, finally, and watched the light leave his eyes, burgundy blood staining his face and your blade and your clothes. You had retched then, spilling the contents of your stomach onto the ground beside you, while she mocked you and hissed at you and told you you were worthless, her horrible voice pounding in your ears. </p><p>It was the first time you thought about taking the dagger and plunging it into your own throat, just to make her stop, to get her out, but of course she had heard you think that and roared with rage inside the walls of your mind. You learned very quickly that she may have hated you, but she also needed you. And so you had stood up, wiped your mouth, and sheathed your dagger. You had closed his eyes with a trembling hand, ignoring her hissing, because you couldn’t stand him <em> looking </em> at you like that, and you had dragged him home, down the hundreds of flights of stairs to her lair, trying your very hardest not to cry.</p><p>You were two.</p><p>It got easier after that, as you numbed yourself to the feeling, found ways to make it easier -- you learned to kill quickly and cleanly, to never look into their eyes while you did it, to turn away when she began to devour them with her mandibles during feedings. You listened to her voice and the words of the schoolfeeders and you told yourself you were doing your duty, the right thing. You were just taking care of her, just following the rules, killing trolls who were probably going to be culled in a few sweeps anyway. You were just speeding up the process. What choice did you have?</p><p>And then you had met Terezi, and she had taught you how to be Just, to kill only those who deserved to die. You never really understood what qualified as deserving in her eyes, but it was another rule, another code you could use to cover up the guilt and the shame and the crushing feeling that invaded your chest whenever you thought too hard about the things you had done. She was beautiful, and brilliant, and she understood why you had to do it and decided to help you. She became your partner in crime, shouldered some of your burden for you, and you had clung to her like a lifeline. </p><p>And then you had gone too far, because you <em> always </em> ended up going too far (<em>worthless, pathetic, stupid little girl</em>), and she had abandoned you, and it made you <em> so angry </em> . So angry that she got to walk away. So fucking angry that she had a <em> choice </em> , that she could just decide not to do it anymore, that there was no voice in <em> her </em>head screaming and hissing and demanding a meal that you had to provide. Terezi got to choose. You would never get that chance. </p><p>Later, when Aradia sent the ghosts of your victims to terrorize you, you had wondered if she knew you were already haunted.</p><p>And now you’re six, and <em> She </em>is dead but you swear you can still hear her voice sometimes, the clicking of her mandibles echoing in your mind. You cover your ears as if that will stop it, the way you used to as a wriggler when she got too loud, and it’s just as inefficient now as it was then. You’re horrified to realize you’re truly crying, cerulean dripping down your cheeks and onto your robes even as you try your hardest to stop the flow of tears. After a few more minutes you give up trying, because it’s clearly not going to work, and you let yourself sob, reasoning that if you get it all out now you can probably go another few sweeps without shedding a tear. Because that’s definitely how it works.</p><p>You are beginning to calm down, your trembling slowing and your breathing coming slightly more easily, when your watch goes off, alerting you to a new message. Fuck. You <em> really </em> don’t want to talk to anyone right now, not when you’ve just finished putting on the most embarrassing display in the history of paradox space, but after a few minutes of incessant beeping your curiosity gets the better of you and you check it anyway. </p>
<p></p><div class="background">
  <p class="block"><span class="pyrope">gallowsCalibrator [GC]</span> <span class="text">began trolling </span><span class="serket">arachnidsGrip [AG]</span>.<br/>
<span class="pyrope">GC: VRISK4<br/>
GC: WH3R3 D1D YOU GO<br/>
GC: SER1OUSLY VR1SK4 4NSW3R M3 G4MZ33 1S ON TH3 LOOS3 4G4IN<br/>
GC: W3 LOOK3D 4W4Y FOR L1K3 4 S3COND 4ND H3 W4S GON3<br/>
GC: 4ND SO W3R3 YOU<br/>
GC: 1 DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW 1T H4PP3N3D<br/>
GC: 4ND NOW YOU’R3 NOT 4NSW3R1NG 4ND 1 4M G3TT1NG D4NG3ROUSLY CLOS3 TO 4SSUM1NG TH3 WORST!<br/>
GC: S3RK3T 1F YOU’R3 D3AD 1 4M GO1NG TO B3 SO P1SS3D<br/>
GC: CONS1D3R1NG 1 UND1D 4N ENT1R3 T1M3LIN3 TO S4V3 YOUR 4SS FR4NKLY 1T WOULD B3 RUD3 FOR YOU TO GO 4ND G3T YOURS3LF K1LL3D HOURS L4T3R BY 4 FUCK1NG CLOWN &gt;:[<br/>
GC: VR1SK4<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: Calm down, Pyrope, I’m fine!<br/>
AG: Just needed a little time alone. No clowns in sight!<br/>
AG: 8esides, it’s not like Gamzee could take me.<br/>
AG: I have aaaaaaaall the luck, remem8er? All of it.<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: WH4T3V3R<br/>
GC: HE 1S D4NG3ROUS, VR1SK4, DO NOT UND3R3ST1MAT3 H1M<br/>
GC: BUT 1’M GL4D YOU 4R3 OK4Y &gt;:]<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: Thanks.<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: SO<br/>
GC: UH<br/>
GC: 1F YOU’R3 NOT D34D<br/>
GC: WH4T 4RE YOU UP TO<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: Wouldn’t you like to know!<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: Y3S 1 WOULD<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: ::::\<br/>
AG: Fine.<br/>
AG: I’m sitting in my respite8lock 8ecause all of those los8rs were getting to 8e a little too much for me! First I had to witness Fussyfangs going all moony eyed over Lalonde, and then you all started up with those sappy good8yes, and I just couldn’t take it anymore!<br/>
AG: So I went off to get some much needed alone time, no 8ig deal.<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: WHY, VR1SK4<br/>
GC: 4R3 YOU<br/>
GC: J34LOUS?<br/>
GC: &gt;;]<br/>
GC: &gt; ;]<br/>
GC: &gt;;]<br/>
GC: &gt; ;] </span> <span class="serket"><br/>
AG: St8p with the eye8rows!!!!!!!!<br/>
AG: I’m not jealous of Fussyfangs or Lalonde or any of the nerds on this meteor.<br/>
AG: I just…<br/>
AG: I didn’t really feel like anyone wanted me there.<br/>
AG: It’s not like I’m on particularly good terms with any of them. <br/>
AG: Which is fine!!!!!!!!<br/>
AG: Really, I don’t c8re a8out that at all.<br/>
AG: But I’d rather not 8e somewhere where all anyone seems to w8nt to do is stare at me 8ngrily!!!!!!!!<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: 1’M NOT 4NGRY<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: I wasn’t counting you.<br/>
AG: Although I don’t know if I really 8elieve that you aren’t angry!<br/>
AG: ::::P<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope"> GC: 1’M NOT!<br/>
GC: BL4R, OK4Y, M4YB3 4 L1TTL3<br/>
GC: BUT 1 M34NT WH4T 1 S41D B3FOR3<br/>
GC: 1 R34LLY 4M GL4D YOU’R3 H3R3<br/>
GC: 4ND TH4T 1 D1DN’T K1LL YOU<br/>
GC: 4ND 1 TH1NK YOU SHOULD COM3 H4NG OUT W1TH M3 4ND K4RK4T 4ND K4NAY4 4ND TH3 HUM4NS<br/>
GC: 1T W1LL B3 FUN, 4ND M4YB3 YOU C4N ST4RT TO M4KE TH1NGS B3TT3R W1TH TH3M<br/>
GC: PROB4BLY 4 GOOD 1D34 G1V3N TH4T W3 4R3 GO1NG TO B3 STUCK H3R3 W1TH TH3M FOR A SW33P 4ND 4 H4LF<br/>
GC: PLUS WH4T 1 SA1D 4BOUT G4MZ33 1S NOT 4 JOK3<br/>
GC: H3 1S H3R3 SOM3WH3R3 DO1NG SOM3 FUCK3D UP SH1T, 4ND W3 4RE MUCH S4F3R FROM H1M 1N NUMB3RS<br/>
</span> <span class="serket"> AG: Ughhhhhhhh.<br/>
AG: I guess.<br/>
</span> <span class="pyrope">GC: W3’R3 1N TH3 4LCH3MY L4B<br/>
<span class="pyrope">GC: S33 YOU SOON &gt;:]<br/>
gallowsCalibrator [GC] </span><span class="text"> ceased trolling </span><span class="serket">arachnidsGrip [AG].</span> </span></p>
</div><p>You sigh. You tell yourself to get up and walk out the door -- it’s not a particularly long way from your room to the alchemy lab, but right now the distance feels impossibly vast. You had thought about asking Terezi to meet you and walk you over, just so you wouldn’t have to show up to the lab alone and feel everyone staring at you, but you had decided that was pathetic and wrigglerish. You’re kind of wishing you had sucked it up and asked, though, because the prospect of showing up by yourself to a room full of people who hate you is daunting, even to someone like you. </p><p>Ten minutes later you’re still pacing around the room, reminding yourself <em> you’re gr8, you’re the coolest, who wouldn’t want to be around you?! </em>when you hear a knock. You freeze, thinking you might have imagined it, but then you hear it again and yeah, that’s definitely a knock. You reach your hand into your pocket for your dice, just in case, and type in the keycode that opens the door.</p><p>Terezi is standing there, looking a little sheepish, changed out of her legislacerator outfit and into her trademark t-shirt and jeans. She’s wearing her silly red shoes, too, the ones with all the holes in the top, and holy shit, you are so happy to see her.</p><p>“Hey, Vriska,” she says, her voice sounding like she’s trying just a little too hard to be nonchalant. “I needed something from my block, and I was near yours anyway, so uh, I figured that I’d drop by. Gotta make sure you don’t skip out on the gang! I know your ways.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” you say, trying not to let your voice betray just how glad you are to see her. “I was just about to leave anyway, so you’re lucky you caught me! A few seconds later and I would have already been in the lab. Close call!”</p><p>She smirks at you. “Yeah right, I could hear you pacing nervously behind the door from halfway down the hall. You can’t fool me, Serket! I know you too well.”</p><p>“Whatever,” you grumble as you walk over to meet her in the doorway. She offers her arm to you, and you take it, linking it with yours. She knocks against you slightly, and you jostle her back, and the two of you start off down the hall.</p><p>-- </p><p>When you enter the alchemy lab, your arm still firmly linked with Terezi’s, the tension is so thick that you find it hard to breathe. Rose and Dave regard you warily, which you can handle, but Karkat is glaring, and worst of all, Kanaya still won’t look at you. You feel very small, and so you do the only thing you know how to: you straighten up, drop Terezi’s arm, and get ready to put on a show.</p><p>“Hey, everyone!” you say, grinning. “How goes it? Any sign of the murder clown yet? Really, I thought we did a pretty good job tying him up, but if he’s really escaped, I guess our skills left something to be desired!” An awkward silence hangs in the air until Rose finally speaks up.</p><p>“No, no sign of him yet,” she says carefully, her voice even and controlled. “But there have been a number of distressing occurrences, including but not limited to the disappearance of many of the corpses of your dearly departed friends.” You scoff a little, because <em> friends </em> is a bit of an overstatement, but Terezi nudges you in the side and you try your best to return your face to a neutral expression.</p><p>“Too bad!” you crow, walking over to take an empty seat at the table they have all gathered around. “When we do find him, I call dibs on taking him down. I’ve been itching for a good fight for a while now, and besides, I’m probably the best troll for the job anyway, what with my god tier luck.”</p><p>“Actually,” says Kanaya, enunciating every consonant with crisp precision, “I’ve already stated that I want to be the one to kill the clown. Although I suppose some assistance may be helpful, given his unusual strength.” You are the person who has volunteered to help, but she directs the second part of her statement at Rose, once again refusing to even turn her head in your direction. It shouldn’t hurt your feelings -- who needs a meddlesome meddler like Fussyfangs, anyway? -- but it does. You just wish she’d <em> look </em> at you. </p><p>“Oh! Well that’s fine. Teamwork is great!” you say, emphasizing the “eight” sound. Karkat rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Serket, you wouldn’t know teamwork if it bit you in the ass. All you care about is advancing your own bullshit agenda, don’t even lie. Besides, if I haven’t made it fucking clear, <em> no one is killing Gamzee</em>. Not even you, Kanaya, don’t look at me like that. We find him, we talk to him, if we need to, we trap him again. That’s the plan. If I catch you pulling out that chainsaw, Maryam, so help me god I will launch it off the side of this meteor without a moment’s hesitation. Do not fucking try me.”</p><p>“Fuck you, Vantas!” you reply, as Dave snickers into his hand at Karkat’s tirade. “I’m the queen of teamwork! Don’t you remember who dealt the final blow to the Black King in our session? Oh yeah, it was me, the <em> only </em> god tier around to save all your sorry asses! You would have <em> died </em> without me! And also, your ban on killing Gamzee is completely ridiculous. I mean, come oooooooon. Are we just going to let a murderous clown honk his way around the meteor, ready to kill any of us at a moment’s notice? He’s escaped once, what makes you think he won’t do it again?”</p><p>“I cannot believe I’m saying this,” comes Kanaya’s voice from the other side of the table, “But I agree with Vriska.” You grin at this, and she looks up to meet your eyes for a split second. She looks away just as quickly, but you’ll count it as a victory. “If you're going to insist on imposing a moratorium on clown murder, you should at least allow us to wound him somewhat.”</p><p>“Seconded,” you say, and grin at Kanaya. She doesn't smile back, but she holds your gaze for longer than a millisecond this time. Success.</p><p>“I’m inclined to agree as well,” Rose adds, and you resist the urge to gag at the dreamy way she’s staring at Kanaya. You give it a perigee before those two are locked into some quadrant, flushed by the looks of it, but you wouldn’t rule out pale, either. “The most prudent plan seems to be to incapacitate Mr. Makara, and find a way to subdue him in order to avoid any more unpleasantries or murders. It would be ideal if this could be done nonviolently, but if that’s not possible, I see no reason not to rough him up a bit. Is that a compromise both of you can get behind?”</p><p>“Fine,” Karkat huffs. “But for the love of all that is holy, just try to fucking talk to him first before mortally wounding him, okay? Or get me to do it if I'm around; it worked before when I shooshed him, at least for long enough to get him tied up. And who knows, maybe he isn’t murderous anymore, maybe he just wanted his fucking freedom! Either way, don't jump straight to brutal murder mode the second you see him. Please.”</p><p>Kanaya groans and puts her head in her hands, but she doesn’t protest any further. </p><p>“Great,” Rose says, clapping her hands together. “It’s a deal. No murders, and no violence until after someone has a good heart to heart with the clown. I must admit, it feels a bit far-fetched to imagine that a simple “shoosh” would have the power to curb one’s murderous impulses, but I suppose stranger things have happened.”</p><p>Karkat opens his mouth to say something, likely the start of another tirade about the power of pale romance, but thankfully, Rose keeps speaking before he can begin. </p><p>“Now, if we’re quite finished with this line of thought, Dave and I have a proposition.”</p><p>Everyone turns to look at her, and you wonder what the two of them could possibly be about to suggest.</p><p>“Has anyone here ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?”</p><p>--</p><p>None of you, it turns out, other than Dave and Rose of course, have heard of Dungeons and Dragons, but as you listen to Rose explain the game, you’re starting to think it sounds familiar. You turn to look at Terezi to see if she’s having the same realization you are, but before you can do so her voice rings out.</p><p>“Wait,” she says, confusion in her tone, “this just sounds like FLARP!”</p><p>“Yeah, FLARP for losers!” you add. “All the numbers and dice and RP’ing, but none of the fun parts! I mean, is there <em> any </em> kind of real-life fighting component to this game, or is it all just made up, fakey fake fake bullshit? Laaaaaaaame. What’s the point?”</p><p>You ignore the fact that less than an hour ago, you were crying over the <em> fun parts </em> of your FLARP days alone in your respiteblock. </p><p>“There is no ‘real-life fighting component,’” Rose answers, a wry smile tugging at her lips, “But I can assure you that the game is still engaging, despite the fact that playing poses no risk of death or mortal injury. I hope you’ll be willing to overlook this in order to join our campaign, but if not, I suppose I understand.” </p><p>You roll your eyes at her sarcasm, but you have to admit it does sound kind of nice. You always loved roleplaying, the ability to step out of your skin and into someone else’s, to forget who you were for a while in favor of being someone bigger, brighter, bolder. You wouldn’t mind getting a chance to do that again.</p><p>“Well, it’s not like there’s anything better to do on this rock! If we’re gonna be stuck here for the next sweep and a half, we might as well find ways to pass the time. I’m in.” You sit back and fold your arms, trying to project an air of indifference about the whole thing, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’re a little excited.</p><p>“I’m in too,” says Terezi. “I never turn down a roleplaying opportunity! Even if it is a weird human version of the concept.”</p><p>“Karkat? Kanaya?” Rose asks, and if she thinks nobody notices the extra note of hope that creeps into her carefully controlled tone when she says Kanaya’s name, she’s dead wrong.</p><p>“Will there be costumes involved?” Kanaya asks.</p><p>“That can be arranged, yes.” Rose replies, smiling at her, and you have to resist the urge to make a face.</p><p>“If everyone’s playing, then fine, I guess I’ll join too, whatever,” Karkat grumbles. Dave puts his hand out for a high five, and Karkat stares at him like he’s just grown a minimum of three extra heads. Dave lowers his hand slowly.</p><p>“Great!” Rose says, smiling. “Through no small feat of trial and error, Dave and I found a way to alchemize some Players’ Handbooks, so you can take them back to your rooms and work on creating your characters. Once that’s all squared away, we can get around to playing. First, though, we should discuss which classes we want to play in order to make sure we have a properly balanced party. I will play the role of Dungeon Master--” she glares at you as you giggle at the stupid sounding title -- “so come to me with any questions you have about the game.”</p><p>“Miss Dungeon Master,” you say, your voice dripping with false sweetness, “Would it be alright with you if Terezi and I incorporated material from our FLARP manuals along with whatever silly human rules are inside your guidebooks? You know, in the spirit of cultural exchange?”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose that would be fine,” Rose says after a moment’s hesitation, a slight note of annoyance in her voice. “Bring them next time, and we’ll see what we can do. Now, let’s get into picking our classes.”</p><p>The six of you spend the next hour arguing over who will play what -- you and Terezi both want to play rogues, and despite both of your insistences that the investigator and swashbuckler subclasses make for <em> extremely </em>different characters, Rose refuses to allow two of the same class in the party. You eventually yield, only because it’s Terezi and because Rose says you can multiclass later if you play something else, and settle for being a wild magic sorcerer instead. Don’t let anyone say you never compromised. </p><p>Dave decides to play a bard so he can “take bitches down with his sweet raps”, and Karkat mutters to himself for the better part of the hour before deciding to play a paladin. Kanaya flips through the handbook calmly, occasionally leaning closer to Rose to ask her a question about a particular subclass, before deciding to become a light domain cleric, which you think is a <em> little </em> heavy-handed, but whatever. Once everyone’s classes are squared away, you all decide to turn in for the day (or night -- it’s not like there’s any light available to tell you what time it is). As you walk out the door, you notice Karkat pulling Terezi aside, and something tells you to linger. It’s probably a bad idea, but you press your body against the wall right outside the door and listen all the same.</p><p>“What do you want? I’m tired, Karkat, make it quick.”</p><p>“I just wanted to check in to see whether you’re <em> out of your fucking mind </em> ,” he hisses, his voice less of a whisper than a slightly softened shout. “I mean, seriously, Terezi, I know your future self told you to do this, but in what sick and twisted universe is <em> Vriska </em> the solution to our problems? In case you forgot, she’s batshit fucking crazy, and --”</p><p>“Karkat,” Terezi says, her voice dangerously calm, “Shut up.” He sputters in protest, but Terezi keeps talking, and you realize you’re holding your breath. “You don’t know anything about her, and you shouldn’t act like you do. I won’t pretend she’s not dangerous --” your heart sinks a little at that, but then she continues: “but she’s not evil. And even you have to admit she’s an asset, you remember what she did in the final battle in our session! She is not perfect, but she’s here. She’s <em> supposed </em> to be here, and she’s my -- she’s my friend. So I suggest you get used to it.”</p><p>Karkat doesn’t respond, but you can picture the face he must be making, eyes wide and mouth open, and then you hear footsteps and Terezi nearly slams into you as she storms into the hallway. </p><p>“Jesus, Pyrope, watch where you’re going!” you yell, and she raps you on the knee sharply with her cane in response.</p><p>“You know very well I can’t do that, Serket! I wonder whose fault that is?”</p><p>You grin and punch her lightly in the arm. “I know, I know, I was just fucking with you,” you say, trying to keep your tone light, but Karkat’s words are echoing in your mind, a constant reminder that most of the people that you’re about to spend a sweep and a half in close quarters with think you’d be better off dead, and your voice wavers slightly. Terezi sighs.</p><p>“You heard that, huh?” she asks, her tone gentler than usual. “Don’t listen to Karkat, he’ll come around. You know that’s just how he is, he’ll throw a shit fit for a few days and then he’ll get over it and realize that having you here is a good thing. Just give it some time.” </p><p>You huff and fold your arms. Terezi does not seem to see this as an acceptable response, because she looks at you with concern, her brows furrowed, before reaching up and poking you hard in the cheek.</p><p>“Ow, fuck! What the hell was that?” </p><p>“Stop being such a sad sack! It’s unbecoming. Seriously, Vriska, if you’re gonna let one comment Vantas made get to you, this is gonna be a<em> long </em>trip.”</p><p>“It’s not <em> getting to me</em>, I’m just annoyed that he thinks he’s in any position to criticize me! I mean, he’s been pretty much useless this entire time, and he has the nerve to question whether <em> I </em> deserve to be here? Pathetic.” Your words are sure, your tone decidedly less so, but if Terezi notices she doesn’t let on. </p><p>“That’s the spirit!” she says brightly, and begins dragging you down the hall by your arm. “Now come on, we seriously need to sleep.” You follow her down the hallway in contented silence until you get to the door that leads to your respiteblock. Some pathetic, weak part of you almost wants to invite her in, to ask her to stay and talk, but you bite your tongue and swallow the impulse. </p><p>“Thanks for vouching for me,” you say instead, offering her a small smile that you hope she’ll be able to sense. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>“Someone had to,” she replies, and smiles at you in return, big and beautiful and a little terrifying. “See you tomorrow, Serket.”</p><p>And then she’s off, and you are left alone in your block, the silence feeling suddenly far too large and all-consuming. You lie on your back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of Terezi and doomed timelines and young rustblood trolls and caneswords swirling around your head until finally, finally, you sleep.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YAYY second chapter!! i'm gonna try to post updates on thursdays from here on out if i can. also please forgive me for messing around w the gamzee bits we saw in vriskagram (ie not including the part where vriska has him fanning her and shit LMFAO), there's not THAT much there to work with so anything goes, right?? right?? anyway in my mind he used his freaky clown wiles to escape and fucked off to the depths of the meteor while no one was looking. hopefully that's canon compliant enough because i refuse to dedicate any more of my brain power to the concept &lt;3 as always, thank you so much for reading!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. CHAPTER TWO</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s not that you aren’t pale for her -- you are; you think a part of you always has been. It’s just that pale feels too small of a word to encompass everything you feel for her. You’ve never been good at fitting your feelings into quadrants, especially when it comes to Terezi. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before: there were nights, even back on Alternia, where you thought about asking her into diamonds, even more where you wondered if you might be flushed for her, and by the end of your FLARP days, some where you even thought the two of you could go black. You’re finding now that it’s hard to define the way you feel for Terezi at all, this girl who has left indelible imprints on your life at every turn, but you do know you want to be with her. You want her however she’ll have you, so if she wants you pale, you can be pale for her. You can do that.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is in fact The Gamzee Takedown Chapter, so be aware! warnings for implications of stalking, gamzee's general presence, etc. i tried to keep this section pretty brief because while the gamzee takedown is an important part of the post-retcon timeline, he makes me feel icky and i dont want to give him too much of my time. still though, this chapter does deal with his advances towards terezi somewhat, so keep that in mind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You wake up feeling like absolute shit. It’s been what seems like ages since you slept in a recuperacoon, and the lack of quality rest is starting to weigh on you. You haul yourself up from the floor, trying to ignore the throbbing reverberating throughout your pan. You’re not sure if it hurts because of the lingering effects of Egbert’s punch, your lack of sleep, or both, but you <em> are </em> sure that it fucking kills. Your watch has a few recent messages from Terezi telling you that the humans are in the lab preparing “4 QU3ST1ON4BL3 M34L”, and although you can’t say that sounds particularly promising, you are, as it turns out, fucking starving. You run your hand through your hair -- or try to, it’s too tangled for you to really make much of a difference -- throw on your glasses, and open your door. Immediately, you are hit with a pungent, acrid smell, and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. Questionable was right.</p>
<p>You head through the maze of corridors in the direction of the smell, trying to ignore the nervous sensation mingling with the hunger in your gut. Yesterday, you had Terezi by your side when you entered a room full of people who were at best, indifferent towards you, and at worst, openly hostile; today you will walk in alone. You feel stupid for even worrying about it -- you’re the gr8est, remember? -- and you try to push the feeling down, but it nags at you enough to make you hesitate before you shake your head, take a deep breath, and cross the threshold into the lab.</p>
<p>The smell hits you immediately upon entering. You had thought it was bad in the hallway, but compared to the scent that hangs over the lab, you now realize the hallway smelled positively delightful. You wonder how Terezi is dealing with this, what with her freakishly sensitive nose. You turn to look over at her and you immediately snort with laughter: she appears to have stuffed two pieces of soft paper up her nostrils, presumably to block out the stench that fills the room, and she looks downright miserable. </p>
<p>“Good morning, Vriska,” Rose says, alerted to your presence by your laughter. You consider pointing out that there is no way to tell whether it’s currently morning or not, but decide against it, if only to spare yourself what is certain to be a long winded and condescending response from your fellow Light player. “Would you like some coffee?”</p>
<p>“Is that what that smell is? If so, then no, absolutely not! Seriously, Lalonde, are you trying to poison us? What the fuck is that shit?”</p>
<p>“First reasonable thing I’ve ever heard you say,” comes Karkat’s voice, muffled by the fact that he’s facedown on the table. Even Kanaya looks a bit peeved, although she’s making an effort not to show it, likely for Rose’s sake -- the only sign of her discomfort is the way she occasionally reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Don’t listen to her when she calls it ‘coffee’; it’s basically liquefied lusus droppings, and I think it should be banned immediately on the grounds of being the worst thing I have ever had the misfortune to smell. Did you know humans <em> drink </em> this bullshit? Seriously, there are so many things wrong with this species, it’s not even funny.”</p>
<p>Dave seems to think it’s pretty funny, judging by the way he’s trying to stifle his laughter, but Karkat is too busy acquainting his forehead with the table to notice. </p>
<p>“I will admit, the end result of the brewing process does seem to leave a bit to be desired,” Rose muses, peering into her cup. “Dave and I found the coffeemaker when we were settling in last night. We thought it would be a pleasant way to start the morning, as is customary back on Earth, but the quality of the product is… disappointing, to say the least.”</p>
<p>“You think it’s bad now, wait till it gets that gross little film on top of it. Shit’s nasty,” Dave says, and then takes a long sip of the beverage, seemingly unfazed. When you look at him quizzically, he shrugs his shoulders. “I grew up drinking way worse. Like, if you had handed me a cup of this back on Earth I probably would have wept with joy, considering that half the time the only things in my fridge were swords and puppet ass. Plus, it wakes you up, and by the looks of… all of you, actually, you need a little pick-me-up.”</p>
<p>“Strider, I will burn this meteor to the fucking ground before I take even a single sip of that disgusting fluid, and I mean that.” Karkat lifts his head up from the table momentarily to glower at Dave, and then slams it back down with a degree of force that even you have to admit is a bit impressive. </p>
<p>“The taste is poor, but it does seem to provide a bit of extra energy,” Kanaya says. “That being said, I’m unsure whether the benefits outweigh the costs.” She swirls her mug in her hands, grimacing down at it. You take a look at the cup’s contents, and notice the aforementioned greasy film reflecting Kanaya’s glow. Yeah, fuck this. You don’t care how tired you are, you will not be going anywhere near this beverage, and you <em> certainly </em> won’t be drinking it. </p>
<p>Terezi groans. “Please, please never make this appalling beverage again. My nose cannot handle it! Even with these blockers in all I can smell is that horrible, horrible drink. I can’t even smell any of you, it’s all just bean fluid, it’s so awful.” The paper in her nostrils is making her voice more nasal than usual, her “n” sounds blurring into D’s. It’s… actually kind of cute. Not that you’d ever admit that. You file that thought away under “things to avoid unpacking later.”</p>
<p>“Seconded,” you say, and take the empty seat next to Terezi. You poke her in the shoulder in greeting, and she grimaces at you in a way that you’re pretty sure is supposed to resemble a smile. “Hey, Pyrope. How’d you sleep?” </p>
<p>She groans again.</p>
<p>“It appears that the lack of recuperacoons on this meteor has been getting to all of us,” Kanaya says from across the table. “Perhaps we should work on alchemizing some. I’m sure it’s possible, as long as we’re able to find the right combinations of ingredients.”</p>
<p>“That’s a good idea, Kanaya. If you’d like, I could help you with that today. We should start planning for our arrival soon, but there seems to be little point in strategizing while all of you are dealing with the rather unpleasant side effects of sleep deprivation.” Kanaya beams at Rose and nods her head in affirmation, but before she can respond Karkat cuts in.</p>
<p>“Wait, what is this about planning for our arrival? I thought we were going to be on this meteor for a sweep and a half. Please tell me the reason you want to plan for our arrival <em> now </em> is because I misheard you and we’ll be arriving in a perigee and not because we’re going to spend the entirety of the next three years in strategy meetings. Seriously, please tell me that, because otherwise I am going to fly off of the fucking handle.”</p>
<p>“My deepest apologies, Karkat,” Rose replies, her lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile, “but you did not misunderstand me. We will in fact be on this meteor for the next sweep and a half, also known as three years for those of us with more... human sensibilities. However, upon arrival to the new session, we will have to jump into action quickly. It would benefit us greatly to begin planning now, so that by the time we reach our destination we are adequately prepared for what’s to come.”</p>
<p>Karkat groans and puts his face in his hands. “Just kill me now, seriously, please. One of you, please show some fucking mercy and stab me in my nonexistent sleep.”</p>
<p>“If you insist, Karkat!” Terezi says brightly, despite the fact that she, too, looks like death warmed over. “As soon as we get those recuperacoons alchemized, I’ll take you up on that offer. Your cherry red blood will be delicious.” Karkat flips her off, head still firmly ensconced in his palms, but she just giggles. One of the paper wads falls out of her nose and she makes a face, and you find yourself smiling at her like an idiot until you see Rose raise an eyebrow out of the corner of your vision and you carefully set your face back to a neutral expression. Fuck.</p>
<p>“Well!” you say, standing up from the table. “If we’re done here, I’m going to go try to alchemize some grubloaf, or really anything edible that isn’t that awful bean beverage.”</p>
<p>“Very well,” Rose replies. “Kanaya, would you like to get to work on the recuperacoons? It might prove a bit challenging, but I do have some ideas for possible combinations, and I’m sure we can figure it out if we put our heads together.”</p>
<p>Kanaya responds enthusiastically, rambling about the potential ingredients needed for the process, as the rest of you begin to filter out of the room. You notice Terezi frowning at her palmhusk, and she gives the screen a quick lick before quickly putting it away. She looks almost… scared. You open your mouth to ask her about it, but before you can speak she brushes past you and heads down the hall to her block, walking a little faster than usual. Huh. You consider following her to ask her what’s up, but your stomach growls insistently and you’re reminded of just how long it’s been since you’ve eaten. You sigh, making a mental note to ask her about it later, and get ready for another meal of shittily alchemized grubloaf.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Soon after your first breakfast, Rose and Kanaya do in fact make good on their promise to alchemize the recuperacoons, producing four for your and your fellow Alternians within a few days. Your outlook on meteor life is greatly improved by the ability to get any kind of decent sleep, and you start to feel like <em> you </em> again. Within a few weeks, your strategy meetings begin in earnest, Rose gathering the group for hours at a time to regale you with tactical concepts and seemingly endless exposition about the situation you’ve all found yourselves in. You hate it at first, and spend most of your time making whispered comments under your breath to Terezi instead of listening. She’s responsive enough, but her smiles seem hollower than usual, lacking the sharpness you’re used to. Eventually, though, you get bored enough that tuning in is more entertaining than tuning out. Rose is needlessly verbose and irritatingly condescending, but you have to admit her plans have merit, and before long you find yourself piping up during meetings, bringing up counterpoints and stratagems that she’s neglected to consider. The discussions get heated more often than not, but as the perigees go by you develop a begrudging respect for each other. Rose finds you outside of meetings sometimes to run a concept by you, and you find yourself messaging her long strings of text debating the implications of various tactics you’ve been discussing. It’s not a friendship, per se, but you trust her judgement, and for the most part, she appears to trust yours. “A mutual understanding between the heroes of Light,” she calls it, and you’re inclined to agree.</p>
<p>However, as you grow closer (if you could call it that) to Rose, you begin to notice Terezi’s distance from you widening. It’s subtle at first, a note of distraction in her voice while you’re talking over a supremely shitty dish the humans refer to as “pizza”, or anxious sniffs up and down the halls when she thinks you aren’t paying attention. Then she starts coming out of her room less and less, showing up only when she needs to scare up a meal, and even then, she’s more than distant. Eventually, you pretty much stop seeing her altogether, save for a few brief hallway run-ins where you catch her practically sprinting back to her room with armfuls of food. You try to ask her how she is, and she assures you she’s fine every time, turning away from you before you can push the issue any further. Now, with more than a quarter sweep on the meteor under your belt, you realize you don’t think you’ve seen her at all in almost a perigee, and you’re starting to get seriously worried. You’re not the only one: Dave and Rose have both mentioned her absence to you, and you’ve heard Karkat shout-whispering to Kanaya about the issue on more than one occasion. </p>
<p>In another time, back before caneswords and coin flips and that fateful punch, you would have bothered her endlessly, refusing to accept her hollow insistences that nothing was wrong. But things are different now. She killed you and then sent John back in time to bring you back, and you’re starting to wonder if all of this, the distance, her refusal to talk to you or anyone else, is because she’s realized she was wrong. What if she’s realized that saving you was stupid, just another mistake on her part? What if she doesn’t want to see you because she regrets keeping you alive? Karkat’s words echo in your head -- <em> in what sick and twisted universe is she the solution to our problems? </em> -- and you wonder if she’s finally decided he was right. That you weren’t worth saving. That she’s doomed a timeline again by sparing your life.</p>
<p>Still, though. She’s still your friend. And when your friend disappears for a fucking perigee on a floating rock in the middle of paradox space, the least you can do is make sure she’s not dead. You take a deep breath, trying to push all thoughts of what she might think of you out of your mind, and pull out your watch to send her a brief message.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="background">
  <p class="block"><span class="serket"> arachnidsGrip [AG]</span> <span class="text"> began trolling</span> <span class="pyrope"> gallowsCalibrator [GC].<br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: Hey Terezi!</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: Where have you 8een? I haven’t seen you in a while.</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: I was hoping we could, you know, actually hang out! The rest of these losers are so 8oring.</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: ........</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: Terezi?</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: I guess you aren’t online.</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: You 8etter not be ignoring me!</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: ........</span><br/>
<span class="serket"><span class="serket">AG</span>: Well, when you get these, let me know.</span><br/>
<span class="serket"> arachnidsGrip [AG]</span><span class="text"> ceased trolling </span> <span class="pyrope"> gallowsCalibrator [GC].</span></span></p>
</div><p>You spend a while pacing around your room trying not to check your watch before it becomes clear that she’s not going to reply. That’s fine. She’s probably busy, or sleeping, or she just doesn’t want to talk to you. There’s no need to worry. She’s fine. She’s <em> fine</em>. You try to ignore the way your worry nags at you, focusing as hard as you can on anything other than thoughts of Terezi. </p>
<p>You make it five minutes before you’re speedwalking down the hall to her block. </p>
<p>“Terezi?” you call when you get to her door, and when there’s no answer, you knock loudly. “Terezi, seriously, are you in there?” At first there’s only silence, and your heart is dropping (which makes no sense because there’s no need to worry, she’s fine, there’s no reason to think she’s not fine) and then finally, finally, you hear shuffling from behind the door. </p>
<p>“Vriska?” comes Terezi’s voice, and a wave of relief breaks over you. </p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s me! Let me in, Pyrope, you’re being weird!”</p>
<p>After a moment, the door slides open, and -- <em> oh </em>. Maybe you were right to be worried, because Terezi looks like shit. Her hair is a mess, sticking up every which way, and you can see the bags under her eyes even though she has her glasses on. She looks tired and haggard and impossibly small. </p>
<p>“Jesus Christ, Terezi, what happened to you?”</p>
<p>“Hello to you too, Vriska,” she says, with none of the cheery conviction that is usually so prominent in her voice. She looks more exhausted than you’ve ever seen her. </p>
<p>“Terezi,” you say, concern creeping into your tone, “have you been sleeping at all?”</p>
<p>She laughs harshly. “The fact that you had to ask me that pretty much answers your question, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“Rezi,” you say softly, and she freezes for a second at your use of her nickname. You haven’t called her that in forever. Not since the scourge days, not since before -- well, everything happened. You don’t know what possesses you to say it now -- you’re not even sure it’s a conscious choice. She doesn’t respond, and you pause for a bit, both of you silent, unsure what to say.</p>
<p>“Can I come in?” you finally ask. After a brief moment of hesitation, she nods and moves aside so you can enter, and then sticks her head over the threshold and sniffs furtively up and down the corridor before closing the door behind you. </p>
<p>“Okay, what’s up with that?”</p>
<p>“What’s up with what?” she asks, her arms crossed.</p>
<p>“All of… this,” you say, gesturing to her lamely. “C’mon, Terezi, you look like shit, I haven’t seen you in forever, you’re checking the halls like a paranoid wriggler… what gives?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” she mumbles, and you’re about to tell her <em> it doesn’t seem like nothing </em> when her palmhusk, discarded on the floor, lights up. She freezes for real this time, fear written plainly across her face, and before she can stop you you’re picking the device up to see what has her so startled. You peer down at it to see lines of purple text, sentences alternating between all lowercase and all capital letters, and <em> oh shit</em>. Fuck no. Absolutely not. You scroll up to find the beginning of the messages, but they just go on and on, mostly uninterrupted apart from a few occasional lines of teal. You’re only skimming, but the words are vile, cruel, and <em> holy fucking shit </em> you are angry. </p>
<p>“Where is he?” you say, trying your best to control the fury in your voice for her sake. Judging by the look on her face, you’re not doing a very good job.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” she says miserably, lifting her glasses to rub at her eyes. “I haven’t really seen much of him, just heard him sometimes, and -- and the messages, they just keep coming.” She looks closer to crying than you’ve ever seen her. “I think he’s hitting on me, blackrom-wise, which means I’m probably not in any <em> real </em> danger, but -- Vriska, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m telling him to fuck off!” you say, fingers flying across her keyboard. She snatches the palmhusk out of your hand.</p>
<p>“Stop it! I can handle this myself! It’s not that bad, he’ll probably give up soon, and if he doesn’t… I don’t know. I could do blackrom with him, I think. The stuff he says does make me feel pretty awful, so…” She folds her arms again.</p>
<p>“Absolutely <em> fucking </em> not,” you say, seething a little. Okay, a lot. “First of all, you look like you narrowly survived a run in with a particularly pissed off imperial drone, so it doesn’t seem to me like you can ‘handle this yourself.’ Second of all, what happened to ‘safety in numbers?’ And third, blackrom? With <em> Gamzee</em>? Are you out of your fucking <em> mind</em>?”</p>
<p>She shrugs, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “Would it really be so bad?”</p>
<p>“Oh, would being in spades with a <em> fucking murder clown </em> be so bad? Yes, yes it fucking would! Don’t be stupid, Terezi, seriously.” She doesn’t respond, and a sinking feeling settles over you. “Unless… unless this is what you really want? To be kismeses with <em> Gamzee fucking Makara</em>?”</p>
<p>She leans back against the wall for a moment, and then slides down to a sitting position. She looks miserable and tiny and defeated, and it kind of makes you want to break something. “No, I don’t want that, it’s just… I don’t know. He makes me feel terrible, I’ve been so freaked out ever since he started messaging me, but I’ve never really been pitch with anyone before, so how do I know this isn't what it’s supposed to feel like?”</p>
<p>“Terezi, you haven’t slept for days. Do you really think this is what it’s <em> supposed to feel like </em>? You’re better than this, come on.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I am,” she says quietly, taking a shaky breath. Fuck. You move to where she’s seated against the wall and slide down next to her. </p>
<p>“You are,” you say fiercely, scooting closer so your shoulder is touching hers. “You’re -- you’re great, Terezi, the fucking best, you saved this entire timeline, for fuck’s sake!”</p>
<p>“Not me,” she whispers. “Her. The other Terezi. All I did was try to kill you. I’m not that Terezi, I didn’t save anyone! I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, all I have is this stupid fucking scarf and now I’m just expected to make sure things don’t go catastrophically wrong this time, except, oh yeah, <em> I have no idea how to do that</em>. So no, I’m not great. I’m not anything. Maybe all that shit Gamzee is saying is just… the truth.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be an idiot,” you say, reaching over to squeeze her hand. She doesn’t squeeze back, but she doesn’t let go, either. “Or, fuck, sorry, that’s probably not the best thing to say in this situation. Shit, Terezi, I’m not good at this.” You pause for a second, trying desperately to gather your thoughts. “Look. The only difference between you and freaky bloody scarf Terezi is whatever perspective she gained from spending three years on this meteor. Other than that, you’re the same person. Same mind, same heart, same everything. In fact, I’d say you’re better off this time around, because now you have me to hang out with, and not only am I a great friend, I am also a wonderful strategist. We’re going to figure this out together, you and me and the rest of these losers, and we’re gonna show up to that session ready to kick some ass. You don’t have to do this alone. In fact, I’m not going to <em> let </em>you do this alone! And I’m certainly not going to let you enter some kind of fucked up blackrom situation with that juggalo asshole just because you want to wallow in self loathing! You’re too important to m-- to all of us. Not weird alternate timeline Terezi. You, right here, right now. I mean that.”</p>
<p>You stop to breathe. You think it might be the most sincere you’ve ever been. It’s a little embarrassing. She sighs, and after a moment she leans her head on your shoulder. You stay like that for a while, her hand still clasped in yours, and you’re starting to think that the whole scene is getting dangerously close to pale territory when she stands up abruptly, pulling you with her.</p>
<p>“Come on,” she says, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“What? Go where? Pyrope, what the fuck are you doing?”</p>
<p>She smiles at you weakly and lets go of your hand to grab her palmhusk and dash off a quick message. </p>
<p>“Terezi, what the <em> fuck </em>--”</p>
<p>“Relax, Serket!” she says, doing her best to widen her smile. “I just told our clown friend to meet me in the corridor outside the storage rooms. I think it’s time for a takedown.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The plan you devise is simple. Terezi will meet Gamzee in the hallway while you hide nearby. Once she’s distracted him, you’ll sneak up behind him and the two of you will bring him down together. It’s easy enough, but you can still feel the anxiety coming off of her in waves as the two of you make your way deeper into the heart of the meteor. She catches you by the arm before you turn the final corner, and she looks almost desperate.</p>
<p>“Stay here, okay? Wait for my signal. Just like the old days.”</p>
<p>“Just like the old days,” you echo, and then, more quietly: “You gonna be okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she says, swallowing hard.</p>
<p>“I’m right behind you,” you say, reaching down to grab her hand. She squeezes back this time. You try not to think too hard about what it means.</p>
<p>She turns the corner and heads down the corridor, and soon enough you hear the telltale honks that tend to preclude Gamzee’s appearances. They get louder and louder, accompanied by shuffling footsteps that eventually come to an abrupt stop. You risk a peek around the corner, and there he is, hulking and massive and, even you have to admit, fucking terrifying.</p>
<p>“It’s been a MOTHERFUCKIN’ WHILE, my most righteous bitch,” Gamzee says as he steps towards Terezi. She hasn’t given her signal yet, which means it’s not yet time for you to act, but it still takes everything in you to hold back from attacking right then and there. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna be all ignoring my MOTHERFUCKIN’ MESSAGES for the rest of MOTHERFUCKIN’ TIME.” She winces at the sound of his raised voice as it echoes around the corridor. “Should have known you’d be all up and unable to resist MY MOST WICKED PITCH ADVANCES.” He leans closer to her, bracing himself against the wall and bringing his face inches from hers. She taps her cane on the ground twice, your agreed upon signal -- fucking <em> finally </em> -- and you begin to inch out of your hiding place towards where the two of them are standing.</p>
<p>“Mr. Makara,” Terezi says, and to her credit, she keeps her voice steady. You keep creeping forward. “I can assure you that I was not ignoring your advances! Only waiting for the right moment to respond.”</p>
<p>You’re just a few feet away now, almost within striking distance. You size him up from where you’re standing, and realize that the best way to take him down is to take advantage of his clumsiness and size. You can’t exactly make eye contact with Terezi, but you’re pretty sure she can smell you. You also know that she knows you -- knows your tactics, your preferred way of taking down opponents bigger and stronger than the both of you. You spent enough time as Team Scourge that you learned each other’s every move; by the end of your days campaigning together, you could predict each other’s actions flawlessly, always playing off of each other, the perfect duo. You hope that hasn’t changed.</p>
<p>You decide to pull a classic Scourge takedown maneuver, one that never failed you two in the past. You crouch down on the floor behind Gamzee until you’re lying prone, and hope with all your might that Terezi can tell what you’re doing. A few seconds go by, Gamzee continuing to say obscene things to her that make your blood boil, and you’re starting to worry she hasn’t caught on when she does exactly what you wanted her to: she reaches out, cane held out horizontally in front of her, and shoves him as hard as she can. He tumbles back onto you and trips over your prone form, which hurts quite a lot if you’re being honest, but it’s a small price to pay for the feeling of satisfaction you get when he slams onto the floor behind you. </p>
<p>“Do not come near me ever again,” Terezi says, and her voice is shaking now, not with fear but with rage. She extends a hand to you and pulls you to your feet. “If you fuck with any of us at any point, I will send Kanaya after you with her chainsaw, and that is a promise. Do you understand?” He nods from the ground, and you give him a kick in the bulge for good measure.</p>
<p>“That’s from the rest of the crew!” you say as you turn away from him. You sling your arm around Terezi’s shoulder and she returns the gesture, knocking against you lightly. Gamzee lets out a sad honk from the floor behind you, and suddenly you’re laughing, tension flowing out of you in rivers. Terezi still looks a little shaken, but she’s smiling too, and she leans into you just a little bit more as you head down the corridor, leaving Gamzee’s prone form behind you. Neither of you look back.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>The next few weeks pass relatively uneventfully. Your threat seems to have subdued Gamzee, as the ominous honking all of you had been hearing from the vents has all but entirely subsided. Karkat is a little pissed that he didn’t get to shoosh him again before your beatdown, and Kanaya is considerably more pissed that she didn’t get to go at him with her chainsaw, but they get over it quickly enough. You and Terezi start to spend most of your time together again when you’re not being pulled into three hour strategy meetings or various can town building parties. It almost feels like the old days, just the two of you against the world. You’re hanging out in her block after your most recent D&amp;D session, both of you sitting on her floor with your backs against the wall, when she scoots closer and pokes you in the side.</p>
<p>“Hey, Vriska?” she says, and you could be imagining it, but it seems like there’s a hint of nervousness in her tone.</p>
<p>“What’s up?” you reply, trying to keep any of that same apprehension out of your voice. You aren’t sure that you succeed.</p>
<p>“I was uh -- I was just thinking. About Gamzee, and how he wanted to go pitch with me --” you straighten up abruptly, ready to yell at her for even <em> thinking </em> about going there, but she continues before you can speak. “Don’t freak out, this isn’t about him -- it’s just, it, uh, kind of got me thinking about quadrants. I don’t think I’m in the market for a spades relationship right now, but I guess -- we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I just got to thinking about us, and the way you helped me take him down, not to mention the conversation we had before that, which could easily have been classified as a feelings jam --”</p>
<p>“Pyrope,” you interrupt, grinning, “Are you trying to get me into diamonds with you?”</p>
<p>She freezes, and oh god, maybe you were wrong, you shouldn’t have said it, fuck fuck fuck you’re so stupid --</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she responds after what feels like a lifetime, and now there’s a <em> definite </em> note of nervousness in her voice, but there’s something else there too, something lighter, something hopeful. “I guess I am. I mean, only if you want to.” She looks at you expectantly.</p>
<p>You think about it for a moment. It’s not that you aren’t pale for her -- you are; you think a part of you always has been. It’s just that pale feels too small of a word to encompass everything you feel for her. You’ve never been good at fitting your feelings into quadrants, especially when it comes to Terezi. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before: there were nights, even back on Alternia, where you thought about asking her into diamonds, even more where you wondered if you might be flushed for her, and by the end of your FLARP days, some where you even thought the two of you could go black. You’re finding now that it’s hard to define the way you feel for Terezi at all, this girl who has left indelible imprints on your life at every turn, but you do know you want to be with her. You want her however she’ll have you, so if she wants you pale, you can be pale for her. You can do that.</p>
<p>“Come here, idiot,” you say finally, and pull her into your lap. She relaxes against you, and you tentatively reach a hand up to scratch the base of one of her horns. She makes a contented little sigh and sinks into you further, and yeah, you think you could get used to this. </p>
<p>“So, is that a yes?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” you say after a moment, “Yeah. Fuck it, Pyrope, let’s be pale.”</p>
<p>She smiles at you, and shifts upward so her face is level with yours, lifting a hand to push your hair out of your eyes. She leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, a little clumsy, and you feel your face heat up under her touch. You’re feeling sentimental, so you lift your hand, separating your first two fingers into a V and holding them up. Then you realize she can’t see it, so you do something disgustingly sappy and guide her to you, placing her hand over yours so she can feel the shape your fingers are making. She grins once she realizes what you’re doing, and makes a V of her own, connecting it with yours to make a diamond. It’s cheesy and stupid, the kind of wriggerlish gesture you would have scoffed at back on Alternia, but you’re finding that you don’t really care about that right now. Not when Terezi has just asked you into diamonds with her. Not when your cheek is still tingling in the spot where she kissed you. </p>
<p>“You going soft on me already, Serket?” she asks, and her tone is teasing, but her hands are back in your hair, one running through the tangled mess and the other gently rubbing against your hooked horn. You shake your head. Your faces are close still, and before you can overthink it, you bring your lips to hers, giving her the softest kiss you can. It’s a pale move you got from the movies, and you’re not sure if it’ll land -- you and Kanaya never really did this sort of thing when you were in diamonds -- but judging by the way Terezi smiles against your closed lips, you did alright. </p>
<p>“You’re the one who asked <em> me </em>to be your moirail, if you remember,” you mumble when you pull back, and she flicks your cheek in response. “If anyone’s gone soft, it’s you.”</p>
<p>“Shut up and give me a horn rub,” she responds, settling her head back into your lap. You oblige, making slow circles on her scalp and around the base of her horns, delighting in the soft, contented sounds she makes. Eventually her breathing slows, and before long she’s snoring gently against you. You feel your eyelids getting heavy, but you force yourself to stay awake; you want to remember this. You want to be present. Your thoughts are swirling, red and pale and black mixing into a confusing and terrifying mess, but you focus on the feeling of Terezi’s body next to yours, soft and warm, and you breathe a little easier.</p>
<p>This is enough, you tell yourself, as your eyes begin to close. You will make it enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>MOIRALLEGIANCE TIME &amp; NO MORE GAMZEE!!!!!!!! SOUND THE ALARM!!!!!!!! also yes i am a pale kiss truther and always will be... moirails should get to kiss a little, as a treat. as always, thank you so much for reading, love u all xoxo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. CHAPTER THREE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rose says nothing in response, only raises an eyebrow as she downs the rest of the coffee. It’s a little infuriating, the cold air of superiority she somehow manages to exude even after you have just caught her drunk and disoriented in the middle of the lab. Part of you wants nothing more than to break her down, to spar with her verbally until you get the upper hand, to see the look on her face when she realizes that you are just as much of a force to be reckoned with as she. It’s a little pitch, you realize, the temptation you feel to go toe to toe with her until one or both of you gives, and you shake your head briefly to clear the thoughts from your mind.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warnings for this chapter: rose's contentious relationship w alcohol is touched on.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You and Terezi announce your moirallegiance at one of your next D&amp;D sessions. It’s been a few weeks since you made it official, and you wouldn’t say you’ve exactly been subtle, but the two of you agree the courteous thing to do is probably to give everyone the heads up. You show up to the session a few minutes more than are strictly necessary after receiving the memo that the game is starting (you insist to Terezi that being fashionably late is central to your brand, despite her protests), hands clasped together in a display of pale affection that you would have once found a little embarrassing. It turns out a lot can change in a few weeks.</p>
<p>“Vriska and I have an announcement to make!” Terezi exclaims as you enter the old computer lab, which Rose and Kanaya have transformed into a rather nice library. Everyone is seated around the central table, character sheets and handbooks sprawled out in front of them, Rose half-hidden behind her makeshift DM screen. </p>
<p>“If it’s that you’re deep in the pale throes now, we already fucking know,” Karkat says, staring pointedly at your hands. Yeah, you probably could have been a little less obvious. “You’ve been all over each other since Egbert threw that punch, did you really think we wouldn’t fucking notice? I don’t fully understand how you two went from nearly murdering each other to the most nauseating pale pair this side of paradox space in a matter of perigees, but whatever. Good for you, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you, Vantas!” you say, searching the rest of your party’s faces for any sign of surprise and finding… nothing. Goddamnit. “Did you <em> all </em> already know?” you ask, and you’re met with a series of nods from everyone except Dave, his expression carefully blank, eyes obscured by those ridiculous sunglasses. You wonder, not for the first time, if he might be a little jealous. You think back to before your sessions merged, Terezi sitting in this very room, cackling at her computer, walls of candy red text filling her screen. In your mind, your relationships with the human boys had been a game, a vessel you used to keep yourself relevant to Terezi. You had liked John well enough, despite his dopey demeanor and cluelessness about how to play the game right, but he was never really more than a distraction for you. You hadn’t really considered that things might have been different for Terezi; that Dave might have wanted to pursue something with her, that maybe, in some alternate timeline, they would have started up a fumbling flushed relationship during your time on the meteor. The thought makes you tense a little. <em> Too bad, Strider, </em> you think. <em> You snooze, you lose!!!!!!!! </em></p>
<p>“I suspected you two might have entered into a moirallegiance, but I didn’t want to presume,” Rose says coolly, and you catch her glancing over at Kanaya. Shit. You probably should have thought a little harder about how to break the news tactfully, given that your ex-moirail is sitting about five feet away from you. Kanaya, however, looks relatively unfazed, and you notice that she’s sitting just a little closer to Rose than she probably needs to. “If that is the case, congratulations. I won’t pretend that I fully understand your quadrant system, but please accept my well-wishes nonetheless.” You detect more than a hint of insincerity in her tone, but before you can say anything about it, she continues. “Now, if no one else has any announcements of a romantic nature, let’s begin tonight’s session.”</p>
<p>She pulls out a battle map made mostly of cans -- you had caught the Mayor helping her build it earlier, but she had shooed you out of the room before you could get a closer look -- and places it on the table. You have to admit, it’s pretty decent. Despite many hours of trial and error, none of you had been able to successfully alchemize figures that decently represented your characters, so you had had to settle for hand-drawn paper tokens. Even when she’s rendered in this oh-so-symbolic manner, your sorcerer, Kysna of the Wild Mind, still looks pretty badass. You still miss playing the Marquise a little, but there’s something refreshing about taking on a new character, and besides, Mindfang leaves a bit of a bad taste in your mouth these days -- Kysna is strong and wild like she was, without reminding you of the people you were forced to kill or the pain of losing your eye and your arm, or most importantly, the feeling of Terezi’s sword as it pierced your chest. Terezi has opted to play a different character too, a dragonborn investigator named Torrin, although she insists that everyone refer to him only as The Unerring Eye. She also insists on making dragon noises nearly constantly, which you find simultaneously incredibly irritating and deeply endearing. Rose doesn’t seem to agree, considering that she frequently takes it upon herself to remind Terezi that Dragonborns don’t actually growl like that, but in your opinion, it’s all fake made-up bullshit anyway, so if she wants to growl, let her growl.</p>
<p>Terezi does in fact finish Torrin’s attack on the gnolls you’re facing with a particularly guttural sound effect, and then it’s your turn. You glance at Rose, take a deep breath, and clear your mind, focusing only on her, and begin to pull the luck off her in tendrils that slowly snake back to you. You’re buzzing with the energy of it, basking in the familiar sensation of all-consuming light while you get ready to roll, the die warm in your palm --</p>
<p>“Vriska.” You freeze. Rose is staring at you, one eyebrow raised, lips set in a firm line. Fuck. “I believe you are forgetting one of the cardinal rules of our campaign. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and refresh your memory. The rule is as follows: <em> no god tier powers </em>, more specifically, no stealing luck. I find it shocking that you are so consistently able to forget this rule, seeing as it’s brought up at least twice a session, and given how thoroughly it ruins the integrity of the game. I can see that you have already stolen my luck, so I will now impose the sanction that we agreed upon after our rather disastrous first session.”</p>
<p>You groan. The first session had been by far the best, in your opinion -- you had simply ganked everyone’s luck at any given opportunity, leading you to roll straight 20s on every single attack while everyone else missed by a mile. You had singlehandedly taken down Rose’s band of skeletons while the rest of your party cowered in the shadows, unable to land a single hit. Afterwards, you had been given a long lecture on the value of teamwork, and the no god tier powers rule had been instituted. You had begrudgingly agreed that stealing luck from your fellow party members was a bit of a dick move, but you had been unable to resist the temptation to steal Rose’s in later sessions. This had led to a lot of arguing, one flipped battle map, and the eventual ruling (from Terezi, no less, ever the arbitrator) that every time you stole Rose’s luck, she would get to use the number you rolled for her next attack, and you would be forced to use hers. On some occasions, when Rose was particularly distracted during big battles, you had been able to get away with siphoning off just a little of her fortune. But for the most part, she caught you whenever you tried it. Today is one of those days.</p>
<p>You make a show of dropping your d20 on the table as dramatically as possible, rolling your eyes as you do it. As expected, your die lands 20-side up, and Rose’s shows a big fat 1. She takes note of the critical hit to use on her next turn as you grumble about stupid rules, Terezi patting your shoulder reassuringly while trying to hide a grin. Karkat makes a comment about how fucking stupid it is that this happens <em> every time </em>, and then it’s Kanaya’s turn to attack, and pretty soon all is forgotten. Karkat’s divine smite eventually finishes off the gnolls, and you end the session at a tavern, which is really just an excuse for Rose and Kanaya to flirt unabashedly under the guise of roleplay. Kanaya’s cleric is sidling up to an eladrin stranger at the bar, the two of them having a discussion in which Rose’s eladrin uses the word “dashing” at least twice, while you try to ignore them, playing footsie with Terezi under the table to distract yourself.</p>
<p>“Your tales of adventure are really quite impressive,” Rose is saying when you tune back in, eyes firmly locked onto Kanaya’s. “Perhaps we could go somewhere a little quieter, in order to discuss this further.”</p>
<p>“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Kanaya replies, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. </p>
<p>“Holy fucking shit, can the two of you please get a room?” Karkat interjects, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so grateful for his presence in your life. Kanaya makes a flustered comment about the importance of roleplay, blushing so furiously that it shines through the glow of her skin. Rose claps her hands together and proclaims that they’ll end the session there, and while she’s nowhere near as outwardly shaken as Kanaya, there’s a definite flush to her cheeks. Kanaya stumbles through a flimsy excuse to leave and all but runs out of the room, and Dave and Karkat head out shortly afterward, leaving you and Terezi behind to deal with Rose.</p>
<p>“Vantas wasn’t wrong, you know,” you say, grinning devilishly. “There’s cleaaaaaaaarly something going on between you two! I don’t know why you keep trying to avoid it, it seems dumb to me. Why don’t you stop acting like wrigglers and just go out on a date or whatever it is humans do, it doesn’t seem that hard.”</p>
<p>“If you haven’t noticed, Vriska, going ‘out’ on a date is not exactly a possibility, given that we are currently hurtling through space on a flying rock.”</p>
<p>“Well, obviously I didn’t mean <em> out </em> out! Jeez, Lalonde, do you have to take everything so literally?”</p>
<p>“I was merely pointing out a flaw in your logic. You claimed that Kanaya and I should go out, and I took it upon myself to remind you that that is impossible in our current situation. That’s all.”</p>
<p>“Okay, fine, you can’t go out. You can still go on a date!” Rose rolls her eyes at the way you emphasize the “eight” sound. “Seriously, the two of you are so far up each other’s nooks, it’s embarrassing to watch. She’s obviously flushed for you, a wriggler could see that, so why don’t you just ask her to hang out or something? I don’t get you.”</p>
<p>“It’s -- not that simple,” Rose says, resting her chin on her hands. Interesting. “The situation is delicate. I’m not entirely sure she has any interest --”</p>
<p>“Lalonde, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. She gets moony eyed every time you so much as breathe! Take it from me, I’m an expert on Maryam’s flushed leanings. She was red for me for a while, you know.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t, actually,” Rose says carefully. For a moment, she looks like she wants to say more, but she holds herself back, uncharacteristically silent. Terezi shifts almost imperceptibly next to you. You’re starting to think that maaaaaaaaybe you shouldn’t have said that.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s in the past now!” you exclaim, eager to move on from the subject. “Nothing ever came of it, we weren’t a good match. Listen, this is getting painful. Terezi, isn’t it getting painful?” You nudge her a little, and she nods.</p>
<p>“It is getting a little painful,” she echoes. “Watching the two of you dance around each other like a couple of grubs was entertaining at first, but now it’s just kind of… depressing.”</p>
<p>“Agreed,” you say. “So here’s my brilliant solution! We pick one of Strider’s less terrible human movies, take over the television, and have ourselves a little double date. Terezi and I will be there to help things go smoothly, and maybe the two of you will finally be able to actually fucking tell each other about your feelings outside of a ridiculous roleplay scenario.”</p>
<p>Rose pauses for a moment to mull it over.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she says eventually, as she turns to leave. “I’ll leave it up to you. Please be discreet, though, I don’t want to scare Kanaya off.”</p>
<p>“Fuck yes!” you exclaim, turning to high five Terezi before realizing she can’t actually see your hand. “Don’t leave me hanging here, Pyrope. Ow, fuck, you didn’t have to hit me that hard!”</p>
<p>Rose rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face as she heads out the door.</p>
<p>--</p>

<p></p><div class="background">
  <p class="block"><span class="serket"> arachnidsGrip [AG]</span> opened memo on board OPER8TION DOU8LE D8 (NO 8OYS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!)<br/><span class="serket">AG: Hey losers!!!!!!!!</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Movie night. Tonight. 8e there or else!!!!!!!!</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Terezi and I already picked the movie, and no, we will not tell you what it is in advance.</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: You’re just gonna have to show up to find out!</span><br/><span class="rose">TT: Vriska, I distinctly remember saying something to you about the importance of subtlety. </span><br/><span class="rose">TT: The title of this memo indicates to me that my words were lost on you.</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Wait</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: What</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Did I Miss Something</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: NOP3 JUST GO W1TH 1T &gt;:]</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: VR1SK4 4ND 1 THOUGHT 1T WOULD B3 FUN TO W4TCH SOM3TH1NG JUST TH3 FOUR OF US 4ND ROS3 AGR33D</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: WE WOULD HAV3 CONSULT3D YOU TOO BUT YOU R4N OUT OF TH3 ROOM B3FOR3 W3 COULD 4SK YOU</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: JUST D1SR3G4RD TH3 T1TL3 OF TH3 M3MO</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: UNL3SS </span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: YOU DONT W4NT TO D1SR3G4RD 1T</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: &gt;:]</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: &gt; :]</span><br/><span class="pyrope">GC: &gt;:]</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: ...</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Ignoring The Eyebrows</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: A Movie Night Sounds Nice</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Fuck yeah it does!!!!!!!!</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: We’ll message you l8r when everything’s ready. </span><br/><span class="serket">AG: For now just go a8out your 8usiness as usual.</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Make sure you wear something nice for the d8!!!!!!!!</span><br/><span class="rose">TT: Vriska. It’s not a date.</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Whatever you say, Lalonde. ::::P</span><br/><span class="serket">AG: Don’t be l8!</span><br/>arachnidsGrip [AG] closed memo.</p>
</div><p>You sit back, feeling very pleased with yourself. You and Terezi had spent the better part of two hours combing through Dave and Karkat’s extensive movie collection, arguing over the virtues of various titles (much to your chagrin, Terezi’s first order of business had been to ban any and all Nic Cage films) before settling on Titanic. Neither of you have seen it, but you were intrigued by the ship on the cover, and it looks romantic enough that you and Terezi agree it might finally spur Rose and Kanaya to make a move. Hopefully.</p>
<p>“I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” Terezi says through a yawn as you close the husktop you had been using to send the memo. The two of you had crashed in a makeshift pile in her room the day before, and consequently both of you are feeling a bit out of sorts due to a lack of sopor sleep. “Wanna share my cupe?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, which is equal parts annoying and endearing, but after considering it for a moment you shake your head.</p>
<p>“Nah, I’m gonna stay up. Don’t want both of us sleeping through movie night! I’ll come get you when it’s time if you’re still passed out like a wriggler.”</p>
<p>“Okay!” she says brightly, and bounces over to give you a kiss on the forehead. It makes your pusher swell a little -- you should be used to her pale overtures by now, but somehow even the smallest gestures manage to get you embarrassingly flustered. Not that you aren’t still making every effort not to show it. You reach for her hand and squeeze it tightly, and she grins at you and swats at your face before skipping off to her block.</p>
<p>Once she’s out of the room, you raise your hand slowly to feel the spot where she kissed you. It’s stupid, something you’ve seen people do in Dave’s human movies after recieving kisses from the objects of their flushed affections -- you had seen it happen in one particular film and actually rolled your eyes, making a comment to Terezi about how lame it was to get all moony over something so small -- but you can’t help yourself. Your face still feels warm where she kissed you, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it. Fuck fuck fuck. <em>You’re her moirail, you remind yourself. Nothing more. Do not fuck this up, Serket. Don’t get carried away with stupid red fantasies, you’re not a wriggler, for god’s sake.</em> You sigh heavily, leaning your head back against the couch you’re sprawled out on, when you’re broken out of your reverie by the sound of hurried footsteps. You prop yourself up and peer over towards the door to find Rose holding some sort of beverage, frantically looking around the room for… something.</p>
<p>“Someone’s in a hurry!” you say, and she startles at the sound of your voice. “Jeez, Lalonde, what gives? In case you forgot, we’ve still got a sweep until the battle begins, so you can probably cool it with the urgency!” She just looks at you, uncharacteristically silent. You narrow your eyes, trying to get a closer look at her, and notice she’s a little off balance. Your eyes flit to the glass in her hand, and all of a sudden you make the connection.</p>
<p>“Wait. Have you been consuming human soporifics?” you ask incredulously. She bristles.</p>
<p>“Not -- not excessively,” she mutters, but her words are slightly slurred. “Just a little. To take the edge off.”</p>
<p>You study her closely. She’s coherent enough, but nowhere near her usual level of irritating poised prissiness. She’s also far less verbose than usual, and far more disheveled.</p>
<p>“This,” you say, walking up to her and plucking the glass out of her hand before she can stop you, “is a problem. What the fuck are you doing, getting wasted a few hours before a very important double date?”</p>
<p>“I keep telling you,” she mutters miserably, avoiding eye contact, “It’s notta date.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit it’s not a date, you’re stumbling around the lab right now because you were so nervous that you had to imbibe in some shitty alchemized beverage that impairs your cognitive and motor skills!”</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Rose says, although the words have less malice behind them than you’d expect. “‘M fine. I was just coming in here to look for something.”</p>
<p>“And what is it you were looking for?” you ask, eyebrows raised.</p>
<p>“‘S none of your business,” she says defensively.</p>
<p>“If you’re in here looking for components to alchemize more soporifics, Lalonde, you can stop now, because that’s not happening!”</p>
<p>She narrows her eyes at you, and for a second it looks like she’s going to protest, but then she drops her shoulders in defeat.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she huffs as she sinks into the nearest chair. You realize you’re still holding her drink, and you take the opportunity to pour it into the soil of a nearby potted plant.</p>
<p>“That can’t be good for the plant,” Rose remarks, massaging her temples.</p>
<p>“Can’t be good for you, either,” you say, returning to your spot on the couch. “Seriously, Lalonde, T minus a few hours till date night, and you’re getting hammered on what probably amounts to squeakbeast poison! What gives?”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, avoiding your eyes. You sigh and haul yourself up once more, making your way to the disgusting bitter bean fluid machine. You had insisted it be moved out of the alchemy lab at the beginning of your journey, mostly to avoid losing your appetite every time you entered the room to alchemize some grubloaf, but now it appears to be coming in handy in its new location. You give yourself a pat on the back for your foresight as you begin to brew a cup of the revolting liquid.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” comes Rose’s voice from behind you.</p>
<p>“Sobering you up,” you respond, your back still turned. “From what I’ve gathered from your awful human movies, this horrible bean fluid is a common remedy for those who have overindulged in soporifics. Can’t have you ruining the date by being a drunken sad sack, so here we are.” You turn around and place the steaming cup in her hands. “Drink up!”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes, but takes a sip just the same, grimacing at the taste.</p>
<p>“I’ll have you know that contrary to popular belief, coffee has no bearing on blood alcohol content. The only remedy for intoxication is time.” She pauses to take another sip. “However, I suppose there may be something to be said for the placebo effect.” She sounds better already, still speaking slower than usual, but at least she’s not slurring anymore. You’ll take it.</p>
<p>“Lucky for you, we still have a few hours before movie night starts. Should be enough time to get you back to normal. Thank sweet troll Jesus that you ran into me, otherwise you probably would have been passed out in a stupor before the date even started. Serket to the rescue, once again! Seriously, I have no idea what you losers would do without me.”</p>
<p>Rose says nothing in response, only raises an eyebrow as she downs the rest of the coffee. It’s a little infuriating, the cold air of superiority she somehow manages to exude even after you have just caught her drunk and disoriented in the middle of the lab. Part of you wants nothing more than to break her down, to spar with her verbally until you get the upper hand, to see the look on her face when she realizes that you are just as much of a force to be reckoned with as she. It’s a little pitch, you realize, the temptation you feel to go toe to toe with her until one or both of you gives, and you shake your head briefly to clear the thoughts from your mind. You have enough quadrant confusion going on with Terezi as it is; best to curb your caliginous impulses while you still can. Besides, you’re not even sure humans are capable of black feelings -- you’ve heard Karkat and Dave arguing about it on multiple occasions, but they have yet to reach a conclusive answer. Still, you think, it could work under different circumstances. She would certainly be a superior kismesis to Eridan fucking Ampora.</p>
<p>“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share the title of the film you’ve chosen for us,” Rose finally says, and you’re more than a little grateful for the derailment of your train of thought.</p>
<p>“Nope!” you respond gleefully, flashing her a fanged smile. “You’ll just have to show up and find out. By the way, what are you planning on wearing? It’s important that you look your best, although Fussyfangs would probably still look at you like you hung the moons if you showed up in a paper bag.”</p>
<p>“I hadn’t quite thought that far ahead,” Rose admits. “Although it would be prudent to look nice, if only out of respect to the hosts.”</p>
<p>“Yeah right, as if you give a flying fuck about what Terezi and I think of your appearance. Look, I can’t exactly help you with the outfit thing, given that I have no idea what clothing you even own -- by the way, do you ever take off those god tier robes? -- but if you want, I can do your eye makeup like mine.” You flutter your blue painted lashes at her exaggeratedly. “I know for a fact it grabs Maryam’s attention.”</p>
<p>“I’ll pass,” she says cooly, but her gaze lingers on you for a second.</p>
<p>“You suuuuuuuure?” you ask, batting your lashes at her once again. “Once in a lifetime offer here. The Serket special! Best eye makeup this side of paradox space.”</p>
<p>She groans and runs a hand through her hair, and you know you’ve got her.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she says, as you pump your fist. “But only because it’ll shut you up.”</p>
<p>--<br/>You have to run back to your block to get your supplies, a heap of pencils and brushes in various colors that you had alchemized soon after entering the game, and by the time you return Rose is nursing a second cup of coffee. You toss the makeup onto the table unceremoniously, Rose wincing at the clattering noise it makes.</p>
<p>“Pick your poison,” you say, grinning. “I have aaaaaaaall the colors. All of them.”</p>
<p>Rose rolls her eyes, but examines the makeup on the table all the same. She makes a show of considering every option before settling on black eyeliner and mascara. “These will do, I think,” she says, looking up to meet your eyes with an infuriating smile on her lips.</p>
<p>“Really? I brought you all my cool options, which took forever to alchemize by the way, and you want to go with the most boring ones? This is so lame.”</p>
<p>“What can I say?” Rose replies, her smile only widening. You really want to punch her. “I’m a simple girl. Does your offer still stand, despite my unimaginative choice of color, or will I have to do my eye makeup myself?”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” you mutter, grabbing the makeup out of her hand. You pull up a chair across from her and sit down, studying her face as you try to decide how you’re going to go about this.</p>
<p>“It’s rude to stare, you know.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you, I’m making a plan! I’ve never done a human’s makeup before, give me a second.”</p>
<p>She smirks at you but keeps quiet as you lean closer to her, closing her eyes as you begin to brush the pencil over her lids. Her skin is smoother than yours, and the pencil glides over it easily, creating a thin black line that you thicken and wing out at the edges. Your faces are very close, and you try to ignore the fact she really is very pretty. She’s infuriating, and haughty, and far too snarky for her own good, but there’s something about her that intrigues you. You’re glad her eyes are closed; you shudder to think of the unwanted analysis she would offer upon seeing whatever embarrassing expression is probably written across your face right now.</p>
<p>“Open your eyes,” you say brusquely, once you’re satisfied with your work. “Mascara time.”</p>
<p>She obliges, and you’re struck once again by the deep purple of her irises. The black eyeliner makes them stand out even further, and you do your best not to stare as you apply the mascara to her lashes. You think you see her eyes flit downward towards your lips for a millisecond, but before you have time to process it her gaze has locked back onto yours, and you’re not entirely sure it actually happened. You apply one last coat of mascara for good measure and lean back to admire your handiwork, grateful to have put a little more distance between the two of you. You toss her the mirror you brought, and she examines herself in it.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” she says finally, in that mysterious way of hers that drives you up the fucking wall. “Not bad. I’m not sure I would have gone quite so heavy on the wings, but it certainly makes a statement.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Lalonde, I did you a favor. A thank you would be nice!”</p>
<p>“Apologies. It really is decent work, arguably better than I could have done myself, especially in my… current state.” She holds up one of her hands, and you notice that it’s shaking slightly. “Thank you, Vriska. I do appreciate it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you say, scooping up the rest of your makeup from the table in a concerted effort to avoid eye contact. “Next time, I’m charging you for my services.”</p>
<p>Rose begins to say something about the irrelevance of money in your current situation, but you only catch the first few words before you’re out the door.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>A few hours later, once you’ve put all definitely-not-pitch thoughts of Rose Lalonde out of your pan, you dash off a message to the others letting them know that movie night is about to begin. This time, you’re the first to arrive, followed shortly by Terezi, dressed in her dragon cloak and clutching Pyralspite. You smack your hand against your forehead.</p>
<p>“Terezi,” you hiss, “Did you not read the part of the memo where I said to wear something nice?”</p>
<p>“Oh, was that directed at me too?” She drapes herself across your lap so that her legs cross over yours, grinning brilliantly, and you try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “I thought that was mostly for Kanaya and Rose. We are moirails, Vriska! Isn’t the pale quadrant all about comfort? And besides,” she adds, looking very serious, “I’m offended that you would insinuate that my <em>splendiferous</em> cloak is anything other than the finest attire.”</p>
<p>“You are infuriating,” you say, but you make no move to push her off of you.</p>
<p>“You love it,” she says, and presses a wet kiss to your cheek. You make a show of wiping your face, accompanied by a variety of groans to ensure that she’s aware of your disgust, but secretly you’re hoping she’ll do it again before the night is over. Before you can protest further, Rose and Kanaya finally enter. Both of them are far more done up than either you or Terezi: in addition to your expert makeup work, Rose is sporting a strappy dress the same color as her god tier robes, and has opted for blue high heels as opposed to her usual ballet flats. Kanaya is dressed in an outfit you haven’t seen before, but assume she must have sewed during her downtime on the meteor, consisting of what appears at first glance to be a fairly simple black dress cinched at the waist with a jade green sash. Upon further inspection, you realize that the black material is patterned with a subtle damask print that shimmers when it catches the light emanating from her skin. When she catches sight of you and Terezi, she looks downright horrified.</p>
<p>“Oh dear,” she says, glancing over at Rose and then back at you, staring pointedly at Terezi’s cape. “I think I might be a little overdressed.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense, Kanaya,” Rose says, and you’re not sure how she can give such confident reassurance when as far as you can tell, she hasn’t even bothered to look at anyone in the room other than the girl she walked in with. “We both dressed according to the specifications put forth in Vriska’s memo. If some of those among us chose not to heed her advice, that is on them. Even if that was the case, it wouldn’t matter. You look beautiful.” Kanaya brightens -- like, literally brightens -- at this, a hint of jade blush dusting her cheeks. You almost want to gag, it’s such textbook flushed flirting.</p>
<p>“If you two are done, we have a movie to watch!” You gesture to the empty half of the couch and wait for them to sit down. There isn’t really much space, especially given the fact that Terezi is still sprawled across you, and by extension, all over the place, but you figure that’ll just help move your plan along. Once they’re settled, you press play on the film. A sepia toned ship comes into view, a woman’s voice crooning mournfully as the camera pans out to show a crowd of waving spectators.</p>
<p>“No,” Rose says, a look of genuine horror on her face. “This cannot be the movie you chose. Is this why you were so reluctant to tell us what it was in advance?”</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with this movie?” you ask defensively. “It has romance and a big ass boat, what more could a girl ask for?”</p>
<p>“First of all, it’s three hours long,” Rose says. “Second of all, it is perhaps the most trite romance ever portrayed on screen, not to mention the fact that I share a name with the film’s protagonist, which is just going to make things uncomfortable for everyone.”</p>
<p>“Well, too bad! Terezi and I got to pick this time. If you want to watch something different, you can choose the movie for your next date. Now shut up, I can’t hear what this old woman is saying.”</p>
<p>Rose obliges, although you suspect it has more to do with the way Kanaya has not-so-subtly placed her hand over hers and less to do with your speech. You have to admit, the movie is a little slow, but nowhere near as bad as Rose made it out to be. For the first hour, you focus mostly on Terezi and the pleasant warmth of her body against yours, allowing yourself to reach over and run your fingers through her hair. She relaxes against you as your nails scratch the base of one of her horns, and you pretend not to notice the glances Rose and Kanaya give the both of you periodically. Every so often you whisper to her about what’s happening on screen, just in case she isn’t able to sense it. When the two human protagonists of the movie stand at the bow of the ship at sunset, the male human standing behind the woman as the wind blows across both of their faces, you are forcibly reminded of your FLARP days, standing on your ship with Terezi, listening to her laugh as you cut across the seas. In those moments, it felt like you were the only two trolls in the world, just you and her, the girl who had always Seen you.</p>
<p>Without thinking, you reach for her hand and clasp it tight, squeezing with a desperation you can’t explain and that you hope she won’t pick up on. She runs her thumb softly over the back of your hand, making small circles, and props herself up a little to lean her head on your shoulder. You want to whisper something to her about the cheesiness of the movie, something to break the spell of vulnerability that you feel whenever you get close to her like this, but your throat is tight and dry. You’re almost grateful when the scene cuts back to the old woman’s story -- the romantic tension on screen is gone, and you let yourself take a breath.</p>
<p>The film continues, Terezi giggling uncontrollably at the scene where movie-Rose asks Jack to draw her like one of his French girls, while Kanaya blushes a deep jade. You have to admit, it’s more than a little awkward, and you nearly choke when the old woman describes the scene you’ve just watched as “the most erotic moment of her life.” Yuck.</p>
<p>“God, Lalonde, maybe you were right about this one being a flop,” you say. “This is beyond uncomfortable.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, I tried to warn you,” she responds. “We could probably turn it off now, if you’d like, in favor of watching something less… offensive.”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding? No way! We’re in way too deep to stop now, and besides, the ship hasn’t even sunk yet!”</p>
<p>“I am also curious about the sinking,” Terezi says. “The movie will continue!”</p>
<p>Rose huffs, but does not protest, and much to your delight, the ship soon comes into contact with a massive block of ice.</p>
<p>“Here we go!” you exclaim, sitting up a little straighter. “Finally, I thought this damn thing would stay afloat forever!”</p>
<p>“It’s a little concerning how excited you are to watch thousands of people perish,” Kanaya remarks, amusement in her tone. “Although it’s not necessarily surprising.”</p>
<p>“Oh, can it Maryam, as if you haven’t seen way more violent things go down on Alternia. Besides, it’s not like people <em>actually</em> died. It’s just a stupid movie.”</p>
<p>“Actually, <em>Titanic</em> is based on historical events,” Rose says wryly. “I mean, the love story is completely fabricated, of course. But the sinking, the deaths, the insufficient lifeboats… all of that is true. Did you not notice the dive footage of the sunken ship that’s been interspersed since the beginning?”</p>
<p>“I did, but how was I supposed to know that was real? Good god, so you’re telling me these people were really stupid enough to go around calling their ship unsinkable before its maiden voyage, to the point that they didn’t even build enough lifeboats for everyone on board? Seems to me like they were asking for it!”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure the poor souls in steerage were asking for it, but it is indeed one of the most glaring examples of hubris in modern history that I can think of,” Rose says. “Now be quiet. This part is actually interesting.”</p>
<p>You watch for the next hour and a half as the ship sinks in gory detail. You’re only half following, most of your attention devoted to the way Terezi is running her fingers lazily up and down your arm, eliciting a pleasant shiver every once in a while, although you do perk up when the ship <em>literally breaks in half</em> and begins to sink vertically into the ocean.</p>
<p>“Holy shit,” you whisper to Terezi, “This is just like --”</p>
<p>“That one time we capsized Ampora’s ship, I know,” she responds, grinning a little. “Although he and his crew seemed to fare a little better than these unfortunate saps.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well,” you say, shifting uncomfortably at the memory. You had managed to capsize his ship, but you hadn’t come away with any bodies to show for it, and She had nearly eaten you instead. You had had to patrol the lawnrings, trying to ignore her chittering in your ears, until you had come across some unfortunate passerby. You had slit their throat quietly, kindly, and dragged them back home to her, apologizing profusely -- <em>I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, here’s one to tide you over, please, please I just want to sleep</em> -- and by some stroke of your ever-changing luck, she had taken the offering and quieted her screams to a whisper. You had not told Terezi about that night, or about any of the other nights where you had come home empty handed; you knew she didn’t approve of killing innocent trolls, and the thought of her thinking less of you made you sick to your stomach. But what choice did you have? For her, it was a game. For you, it was kill or be killed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to end up a meal.</p>
<p>Terezi senses your sudden stiffness and leans in a little closer to you, her hand continuing to trace patterns on your arm. She presses her lips to your bicep and you allow it to soothe you, clearing your head of thoughts of Her as the movie’s two human protagonists make the choice to jump off of the edge of the ship. She takes your hand again in her free one, and you stay like that until the end of the film.</p>
<p>“That,” you say, once the credits begin rolling, “was <em>profoundly</em> stupid! I mean, seriously, was there really not enough room on that door for the both of them? Couldn’t they have switched off, or paddled around in search of another piece of debris?”</p>
<p>“You ask an age old question,” Rose says, smiling slightly. She and Kanaya have shifted conspicuously closer throughout the duration of the film, their legs pressed together and hands intertwined. “One that has plagued the human race for decades on end. I am glad to see you agree with my overall assessment of the film. I trust that you will not force us to sit through it again.”</p>
<p>“You’ve got a deal,” you respond. Terezi yawns in wordless agreement, her head lolling on your shoulder. “Your pick next time.”</p>
<p>“Your terms are agreeable,” Rose says. “Now, given the state of your moirail, I would say it’s time for us to turn in for the night. Kanaya, shall I walk you to your room?”</p>
<p>“That would be nice, yes,” Kanaya murmurs, and the two of them make to leave. With great effort on your part, you haul a sleepy Terezi to her feet and make your way back to your respiteblock. When you get to your door, you pause for a second, unsure what to say.</p>
<p>“D’you think I could crash here?” Terezi mumbles, exhaustion heavy in her voice. “‘M so sleepy, and I think your cupe is big enough for the both of us.”</p>
<p>“Duh, you loser,” you say, as your pusher soars in your chest. “Get in here.”</p>
<p>She stumbles to the recuperacoon and knocks out almost instantly, snoring a little as you get ready for bed. Before you climb in with her, you take a second to check your palmhusk, noticing a string of messages in green text.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="background">
  <p class="block"><span class="maryam">grimAuxiliatrix [GA]</span> <span class="text">began trolling </span><span class="serket">arachnidsGrip [AG]</span>.<br/><span class="maryam">GA: Hello</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: I Know Its Been A While Since We Talked</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: And Im Not Exactly Sure My Input Is Needed</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Or Wanted For That Matter</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: But I Guess I Just Wanted To Say Thanks</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Your Double Date Plan Was A Bit Heavy Handed But It Did Seem To Get Things Moving In The Right Direction For Me And Rose</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Which I Appreciate</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: And Also</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: At The Risk Of Being Accused Of Meddling</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: It Doesnt Appear To Me That You And Terezi Are Strictly Following Pale Conventions</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: In My Estimation Some Of The Displays Of Affection We Observed Tonight Seem To Border On Flushed</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Perhaps You Two Ought To Discuss Your Potential Vacillation</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Just Some Food For Thought</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Anyway</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: The Date Appears To Have Been A Success</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: So</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: Thank You</span><br/><span class="maryam">GA: See You Tomorrow</span><br/><span class="maryam">grimAuxiliatrix [GA]</span> <span class="text">ceased trolling </span><span class="serket">arachnidsGrip [AG]</span>.</p>
</div><p>You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling despite yourself as you toss your palmhusk aside. You pointedly choose to ignore Kanaya’s accusations of vacillation as you settle into the cupe. You’ll deal with her meddling and baseless accusations that definitely don’t have any truth to them later. For now, you wrap your arms around Terezi, and let all other thoughts drift away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this chapter ended up having SO much more vrisrose than i expected but that is just because i am a light player and cannot help myself. my view of vrisrose is they both have some pitch feelings going on but neither of them are really interested in acting on them given their relationships with terezi and kanaya. two Very evenly matched light players with a begrudging respect for each other, what will they do? N E WAY thank u for reading as always yall r the coolest :-)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. CHAPTER FOUR</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I’m not freaking out!” you say, despite the fact that at this point you’re actually shaking. You’re grateful that she isn’t touching you, that she can’t feel the panic emanating off of you in waves, although knowing her, she can probably sense it.</p>
<p>“You are most definitely freaking out,” she says, in that matter of fact tone that drives you up a fucking wall. “I know you, Vriska, you can’t fool me, so stop trying.”</p>
<p>You take a deep breath. You know she’s right; for all the webs you’ve spun around yourself to hide the fear and guilt and shame that have taken root deep inside of you, she has always been able to see you. You’ve never been able to hide from her, and you hate it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warnings for this chapter: spidermom discussion, brief description of terezi's blinding. nothing too graphic but be aware! also if ur the type to enjoy listening to music while you read, i wrote a lot of this chapter (specifically the waterfall dream bubble scene) listening to the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us! by sufjan stevens, so if u want a soundtrack check it out! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time the meteor passes through a dream bubble, you’re on the roof with Terezi. The first thing you notice is the smell. It’s familiar, but it’s been long enough that it takes you a second to place it -- crisp, a little salty, a little biting -- shit. You’re smelling the ocean. And if you’re smelling the ocean, that means --</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You look around at the scenery as it materializes -- a black castle set against an imposing red sky, foreboding and ominous. As soon as you have a chance to process where you are, however, the scenery switches and you find yourself inside, faced with walls covered in old posters on the walls and a litany of shattered 8 balls on the floor. The smell of the sea is still present, and you trace the scent back to your open window. Yep. You’re in your hive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not the first time you’ve come back here in a dream -- far from it, actually. More often than not you find yourself here when you sleep, back in her clutches as if the game never happened. This time, though, you’re not alone. Terezi is next to you, sniffing at the air, and from the look on her face she knows exactly where you are. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vriska?” comes her voice, and you can’t tell if it sounds distant because of the rush of the sea outside your window or the roaring of your blood in your ears. All you know is that if you’re reliving a memory like this with her, the universe must really fucking hate you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can feel yourself panicking. “Looks like we’ve got a dream bubble on our hands. Like, one of the ones the whole damn rock passes through, not the ones that only happen in our heads. So, uh. Welcome, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sits up and sniffs at the air again. You look away. You don’t want to know what she’s thinking. You don’t think you can bear it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in your hive,” she says slowly. “Right? I can’t exactly tell, but I think it smells the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Not exactly sure what point in time we’re in, but we’re definitely here. Home sweet home, I guess.” You laugh a little, and you don’t quite manage to keep the bitterness out of your voice. She reaches for your hand, and it reminds you too much of the way she used to touch you after feedings, gentle and a little timid. You can’t handle it, it’s too much, all of it is too much, and before you know what you’re doing you’ve dropped her hand and started walking away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vriska, where are you going?” Terezi calls after you, concern evident in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just -- I need to go,” you say, walking faster as you try to quell the mounting panic in your chest. You remember the feeling of her hands on your back, and part of you wants that </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>badly -- you know it’s what moirails are for, and it wouldn’t be too much to ask her for something she’s already agreed to give -- but you keep walking. She brought you back to save a timeline, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let her see how shaken up you are by a mere memory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heroes don’t get scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you used to tell yourself after she left your hive on feeding nights, promising you that she’d message you on Trollian when she got home. You repeat it to yourself now as you climb the spiral staircase up to the hatch you built when you were three. You unfurl the rope ladder that hangs below it and climb it quickly, pushing open the trap door onto the roof of the castle you called home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a little easier to breathe up here, outside of the walls and the sprawling corridors and staircases that you had thought were so majestic as a wriggler. You scoff a little at your past self’s idiocy. You had tried to make something grandiose, imposing, powerful, but all you had done was build yourself a home as empty as you were. A castle for two, in which her chitters and whispers echoed off of the walls, filling the space with her voice, as if it wasn’t already enough that she was in your head. You had grown to hate it almost as much as you hated her, although you still bragged to anyone who would listen about how superior your hive was to theirs. If you managed to convince them, you figured, maybe you could convince yourself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it had worked, for a while at least, but now you’re back, even if it is just a memory, and the house you built feels colder than ever. You lie back on the roof, staring up at your recollection of the Alternian sky, and you’re trying to distract yourself by counting the number of stars you can see when you hear footsteps, followed by cursing as Terezi hoists herself up through the hatch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go away,” you say lamely when you see her, even as part of you longs for her to just hold you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, not happening,” she says. “Serket, next time you want to go running off to wallow in your own misery, please take into consideration that I am blind, and choose a slightly easier to find hiding spot. That rope ladder threw me for a fucking loop.” She plops herself down next to you and lies back, eyes staring blankly up at the sky. She’s careful not to touch you, which somehow makes you feel worse, and you really just wish she’d leave you alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You not being able to find me was kind of the point,” you say, keeping your gaze turned away from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, so you could sit here freaking out by yourself for however long we’re here for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not freaking out!” you say, despite the fact that at this point you’re actually shaking. You’re grateful that she isn’t touching you, that she can’t feel the panic emanating off of you in waves, although knowing her, she can probably sense it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are most definitely freaking out,” she says, in that matter of fact tone that drives you up a fucking wall. “I know you, Vriska, you can’t fool me, so stop trying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You take a deep breath. You know she’s right; for all the webs you’ve spun around yourself to hide the fear and guilt and shame that have taken root deep inside of you, she has always been able to see you. You’ve never been able to hide from her, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine!” you say finally, because it’s easier than continuing to protest. “I’m freaking out, and it’s fucking embarrassing! I hate being here, which is stupid, because we’re not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> here, but I really fucking hate it. I just -- I don’t want you to see me like this. All freaked out by a memory of my own fucking hive like a pathetic little wriggler. So can you please just go away?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vriska,” Terezi says, and now she does touch you, reaching out to angle your face towards hers, and you will yourself not to flinch. She leaves her hand on your cheek, touching it as lightly as she can, but still keeping contact. After a moment, when you don’t shy away from her touch, she moves her thumb tentatively over your cheekbone, the ghost of the motion she used to do up and down your spine when you were younger. You try to let it ground you. “I’m your moirail. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you like this. That’s kind of the entire point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t say anything. You know what she’s saying is true, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s something eating you up inside and you’re beyond terrified that if you let her see it she’ll turn and run. There aren’t a lot of things you’re truly scared of, but Terezi abandoning you again is near the top of the list. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She talked in my head,” you say finally, after what feels like a sweep of silence. “Some kind of psychic bond thing. She could always hear what I was thinking, and I could always hear her. Always. Just fucking -- vile shit, Terezi, not just about how hungry she was, but about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how weak I was, how stupid, any time I did or said or </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything she didn’t like. And I thought -- I thought when I killed her, it would stop. But I just keep remembering it, even when I’m awake, and it’s like she never really left. And then being here, it’s just -- it’s louder, like I’m back there again, with her stupid fucking voice in my head.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know she could do that,” Terezi says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t, would you?” you scoff, resentment creeping into your voice. “I didn’t fucking tell you! I did what I had to do, I told you as much as you needed to know, and I dealt with the rest of it on my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could have told me,” she says, still making slow circles on your cheek with her thumb. “It wouldn’t have made me think less of you.” She pauses, as if she’s considering whether she wants to continue. “It’s okay to be scared, Vriska.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s not!” you yell, sitting up abruptly. Her hand drops from your face, and you miss the contact as soon as it’s gone, which just makes you feel even more pathetic. “It’s not fucking okay to be scared. I have a job to do! You were given a chance to save a doomed timeline by changing the past, and for some unknown fucking reason you chose to bring me back! So no, I don’t get to be scared! It’s my job to fix this, to win this fight for us, and here I am losing my shit over a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking dream bubble</span>
  </em>
  <span>! It’s pathetic. It’s fucking pathetic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not unknown,” she says, turning her gaze towards you once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The reason I brought you back. I mean, I’m still not completely sure of the reasoning behind all of my alternate self’s actions, but that one wasn’t hard to figure out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enlighten me, then. What could possibly have led you to decide that the best course of action to avert certain death for everyone we know was to spare my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t live with it,” she says simply, keeping her eyes on you. “Fuck, Vriska, I didn’t even kill you in this timeline, and I still hate myself for doing it. Sometimes I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if I had done it. How miserable I would have been, how guilty I would have felt, how much I would have missed you. And if </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about killing you fucks me up that badly, I can assume that actually going through with it did a real number on my alternate self. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> strong, and you will help us win this, but I think I saved you for selfish reasons, too. I think I saved you because I missed you. And I’m fucking glad I did, honestly, because the thought of you not being here is -- it sucks. You don’t have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything to make saving you worth it. You just being here, that’s enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You try to respond, but it feels like something is stuck in your throat, so you settle for reaching for her hand. She clasps it tight, holding on as if you might float away any second. You stay like that, hands intertwined, until the scenery around you fades back to the familiar setting of your block on the meteor. Even then, you don’t let go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that supremely shitty trip down memory lane, the dream bubbles just keep coming. Thankfully, not all of them are as harrowing as your first one; in fact, some of them are actually pretty nice. One takes you to Rose’s hive in the season she and Dave refer to as summer, and everything is so impossibly green that Terezi is convinced you’re actually on one of Alternia’s moons for the majority of the trip. Rose drags all of you through the woods to a rushing waterfall, and for all the shit you’ve talked about Earth, you have to admit it’s pretty beautiful. Dave whoops and cannonballs into the pool at the waterfall’s base the second he sees it, god tier pajamas and all, Karkat grumbling to himself all while trying to keep a smile off of his face. Rose wades in gently, guiding Kanaya by the hand, whispering something to her that you can’t quite make out. You sit on the side with Terezi, dangling your feet in the water, basking in the feeling of non-lethal sunlight on your face. You wonder with a pang in your chest if it feels familiar to her, an echo of the burning light you subjected her to all those sweeps ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Serket,” she says, as if she can sense where your mind is going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold your breath!” she says, a wicked smile on her face, and she pushes you in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You haven’t been underwater in a very long time, and you’ve forgotten what it felt like. It’s cool, contrasting with the muggy heat of the air, and you let it envelop you for a moment before resurfacing, sputtering a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you, Pyrope!” you say, but you’re laughing, and then you’re tugging her by the foot so she slips down into the water with you. She resurfaces with her hair plastered to the sides of her face, glasses still on, and you reach out to slide them up onto the top of her head. You know a lot of people are unsettled by her blank eyes, and logically you should be too, given that you’re the one who did it to her, but they’ve never scared you. You like looking at her. You always have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You realize belatedly that you’re staring, your hands still holding the sides of her face. You want to kiss her, you realize, really </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss </span>
  </em>
  <span>her, not the pale bullshit you’ve been doing, but a real, honest to god kiss. You think you must be blushing, heat rising to your cheeks, and you’re not sure what to do, and then --</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” you yell as a wave of water hits you in the face. Dave and Karkat seem to be engaged in some sort of splash fight, and it’s escalated to the point that pretty much no one is safe from their flailing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry Serket, gotta keep this dude in check,” Dave shouts as he sends another deluge raining down on Karkat, and by extension, you and Terezi. Rose and Kanaya have retreated to a rock by the side of the pool, still whispering about something, Kanaya’s hand not so surreptitiously placed in Rose’s. You poke Terezi in the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wanna get ‘em back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought you’d never ask,” she says, and winds up for a splash of her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other bubbles are more… complicated. There are some that aren’t any of your memories, but memories of the dead, versions of yourselves from doomed timelines that, if you’re honest, kind of freak you the fuck out. You meet a version of Terezi that god tiered, blank white eyes concealed behind a mint green hood, and a version of you that didn’t, killed before you could ascend. You and Terezi meet yourselves over and over, your fates always intertwined in some way -- sometimes you’re pale, the way you are now, more often you’re pitch, and on a few occasions, you’re flushed. You try not to feel jealous of your ghost selves, especially the ones who got to kiss Terezi red, the way you so desperately wanted to back at the waterfall. It doesn’t always work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then you start meeting your ancestors, and that’s a whole other cylinder full of grubs. Some of them are fine -- Kanaya’s, for instance, who is intelligent and forward-thinking and, you have to admit, more than a little beautiful -- but others are downright insufferable. On one of your first trips through one of their bubbles, you and Terezi get roped into listening to Karkat’s ancestor prattle on incessantly about shit you couldn’t even begin to care about. For reasons you don’t think you’ll ever understand, Terezi seems genuinely fascinated by his diatribes, listening with a smile on her face the entire time. The only reason you don’t up and leave is because every so often he says something utterly ridiculous that makes her laugh, and the sound of that alone is worth endless hours of self-righteous monologuing. When that particular bubble finally dissipates, you have to admit that you have a newfound appreciation for Karkat; at least his rants are somewhat entertaining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You meet Terezi’s ancestor, too, a self proclaimed “rad girl” named Latula. Terezi seems enraptured by her, but you see through her act. There’s insecurity hiding just below the surface, a hollowness to her words, just a little bit stilted, a little too carefully practiced. Of course you can see it. It takes one to know one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then there’s your ancestor. You pass through bubble after bubble, searching for her every time, but you don’t find her. It’s almost a relief, you think -- each ancestor you’ve met has been a distorted reflection of the friends you grew up with, and you’re not sure you’re quite prepared to look in that particular mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Too bad for you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bubble where you finally meet her is </span>
  <em>
    <span>bright</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Too bright. It is a different sunlight from the kind that shone on Rose’s waterfall; it’s harsher, more painful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blinding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You and Terezi are on the roof again, having climbed up when Rose alerted the crew to the approaching bubble. You squint through the light and can just barely make out pink treetops, the memory of a forest in the Alternian daytime. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You know what this is. You know what this is, and you hate it more than anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When you finally bring yourself to look over at Terezi, you think she’s crying. Then you look closer and you realize with a sickening feeling in your chest that the teal staining her face is not tears, but blood. She goes to wipe it away, but it just keeps coming, and you really think you might throw up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is your fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you remind yourself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You did this to her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t get to be the one freaking out</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re about to ask her if she wants to go inside, to try to avoid the bubble entirely, when the scene around you warps and shifts, just like it did in the memory of your hive perigees ago, and you’re inside her treehouse. Neither of you have spoken, you realize. You don’t quite know what to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” she says finally, breaking the silence. “This is pretty fucked up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you say, trying to force a laugh. “Fuck, Terezi, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. God, your eyes -- do they hurt? I hate this. I fucking hate this.” What you mean to say is: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hate myself for doing this to you.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” she says, almost absentmindedly, her distance from you palpable even though she’s only a few feet away. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s like... an echo. I’m fine. Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You want to fucking break something. You’re in the memory of her hive on the day you </span>
  <em>
    <span>blinded</span>
  </em>
  <span> her in the most gruesome, awful way possible, and she’s asking if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay. You kick at a pile of chalk on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who cares about whether I’m okay? This is -- fuck, you’re still bleeding, is that how much you bled when it happened? No, don’t answer that.” You sit down on the floor, your head in your hands. You hate that you’re making a bigger deal out of this than she is. It isn’t your pain, you’re not the one bleeding from the fucking eyes, and yet you feel like something inside of you is snapping, and all you want to do is smash things until it goes away. “I’m so sorry,” you say again, because you don’t know what else to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then her husktop lights up, and your stomach drops. You know what this is. You remember the awful messages you sent to her, sweeps ago -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even if you do manage to stumble back to your hive, you’re blind now! Whoooooooops. </span>
  </em>
  <span>-- and the last thing you want is for her to read them. You’ve hurt her enough already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She moves towards the husktop, and takes a sniff of the screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blueberry,” she says. “They’re from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” you say, standing up as she moves closer in an attempt to lick the screen. “Terezi, please, don’t fucking read those, they’re horrible. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with me when I sent you those messages, please just -- don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reads them anyway, and then, because she’s Terezi, she fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not funny!” you say, horror in your voice. “I said such awful shit to you right after I fucking wounded you, as if it was some sort of big gotcha moment, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hahahahahahahaha</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>look at me, I forced my best friend to stare into the sun until she went blind!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right, it’s not funny,” Terezi says, but she’s still laughing. “It’s not. I don’t know why I’m laughing, I just -- it really does feel like we’re the butt of some huge cosmic joke right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Little bit,” you say. “This fucking sucks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it does. What also sucks is you kicking my chalk everywhere! Not cool.” She takes you by the hand to the corner of the room and pulls you down to the floor with her. “It sucks that I took your arm and your eye, too, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got them back,” you say miserably. “It’s like it never even happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opens her mouth to reply, and then all of a sudden another voice, unfamiliar, cuts in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could get your sight back, too, Terezi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of you spring up; sweeps of life on Alternia have taught you to react as quickly and defensively as possible to the presence of unexpected strangers. Someone else has materialized in the room with you, clad in a blue dress that bears your sign, white eyes behind a pair of cat’s eye glasses. You know who she must be the second you see her, and she’s the last person you want to deal with right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who the fuck are you, and why do you smell like blueberry?” Terezi asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How nice of you to ask! I am Aranea, ancestor to your friend Vriska over here, which explains the scent. I’ve been trying to find you in these bubbles for quite a while to no avail. I guess the machinations of paradox space sometimes outweigh luck, even for a hero of Light.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, and what were you saying about my sight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I was going to wait to breach that particular topic until after we had been properly acquainted, but you seemed to be on the subject already, so I couldn’t help but bring it up. As a Sylph of Light, I possess a variety of powers, most of which have to do with healing. If you wanted, I could heal your vision.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh…” Terezi says, and for a moment she seems to consider it. “Um… thanks, but I think I’m good, actually. Being blind… it sucked at first, and the process hurt a lot, but if it hadn’t happened… It’s a part of me now. Without it, I don’t think I would have had the connection I did with my lusus. The way I “see” the world now… it reminds me of her, makes me feel closer to her even though she’s gone. I like the way I sense things. I don’t think I’d want to change it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief blooms in your chest. What Terezi is saying isn’t exactly new to you; you’ve witnessed firsthand the way she’s embraced her blindness, watched her learn a new type of vision to replace her sight. It doesn’t make you regret hurting her any less -- you don’t think you’ll ever really be able to forgive yourself for what you did -- but it helps to know that she made something good out of it. You think back to losing your vision eightfold, the rage you felt when your sight was reduced to a fraction of its former power, the relief that washed over you when you rose up on the battlefield with it intact once more. Of course you threw a fit over losing only some of your vision, while Terezi lost all of hers and is standing here refusing a chance to get it back. It’s just another reminder of how much better she is than you, you think angrily. You took from her, and she had the audacity to </span>
  <em>
    <span>embrace</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. If you hadn’t god tiered and Aranea had offered you the same choice, you would have said yes in an instant. But not Terezi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t deserve her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the nasty little voice in your head says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You never have, and you never will.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, I just thought offering would be the polite thing to do. However, I’m sensing some discomfort on your part, Vriska,” Aranea says, her voice cutting through your thoughts. Fuck. Of course she can tell what you’re thinking. You should have realized she would possess powers similar to yours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No, I’m fine, I’m just a little weirded out! You show up all of a sudden in the middle of a dream bubble and the first thing you do is offer to heal Terezi’s sight like some kind of spooky witch, I’m just reacting the way a normal person would!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aranea smiles knowingly, and you kind of want to punch her. Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Mindfang was like? You had always thought of her as the bravest, most daring gamblignant to ever sail the high seas, but the woman -- girl, more accurately -- in front of you seems to be nothing more than an overblown windbag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” she says, taking a step backwards. “I see how this meeting could be a bit… disconcerting. But I’m only trying to help, in addition to getting to know you. I can sense that our time in this bubble is drawing to a close, though, so we’ll have to pick this up again another time. Terezi, if you decide you want to reconsider my offer, I’d be happy to heal you anytime you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You wait for Terezi to rebuff her, but she pauses. You think of the way people have shied away from meeting her gaze, the horrible comments Gamzee made to her about her vision, the condescension in Aranea’s tone as she repeated her offer, and fury rises in you, almost boiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many times does she have to say it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s not interested!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” you shout. “Stop -- stop fucking talking to her like she’s something that needs to be fixed, like she doesn’t get along perfectly fine the way she is! It’s not your place to talk her into something she doesn’t fucking want to do in the first place! Just -- leave her alone, leave me alone, leave </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> alone! Go fuck off and bother some other poor saps in a different dream bubble!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as you say it, watching the poised expression on her face contort first into sadness, and then into anger, the scenery around you wavers, a telltale sign that you are in fact on your way out of this particular bubble. She opens her mouth to respond, but her words are lost behind the popping sound of the meteor exiting the bubble’s thin membrane, and you are left panting, Terezi staring at you silently as the blackness of paradox space envelops you once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t talk about it for a while. Right after the bubble dissipates she makes a half hearted excuse to leave, something about plans to work on Can Town with Dave, although when you see him later he says he hasn’t seen her all day. You find her eventually, watching a lame human movie on the couch, and when you sit down beside her she smiles at you, but she doesn’t reach out to touch you. You should ask her about it -- you know that’s what a good moirail would do -- but the thought of asking makes your mouth go dry, so instead you sit with her until the movie is finished and wish her goodnight when she goes to bed alone. You know her and you know her moods, and you figure she’ll be better after a good rest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A good rest doesn’t seem to do the trick, however, because the next day (and the day after that) she remains distant. On the fourth day, when she doesn’t show up for any meals, the nagging feeling in your chest grows urgent, and you excuse yourself from dinner to stomp down the hall to her block. By some stroke of luck, her door is open, and you rush in to find her curled up alone on a pile, staring at the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, what the fuck is going on? Is it Gamzee again? Is he contacting you? I’ll fuck him up, just say the word, I swear --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not Gamzee,” she says, exhaustion evident in her voice. You can’t see her face, but you’re sure that if you could her eyes would be rimmed with darkness from lack of sleep. Your shoulders slump a little in relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Well good, I’m glad he’s out of the picture. But what is it? And don’t bullshit me, you’ve been acting weird ever since that stupid bubble. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turns to you, her mouth set in a hard line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to know what’s going on? What’s going on is I’m fucking pissed! I had everything under control, I wasn’t going to accept Aranea’s bullshit offer, but you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to step in! Just because you helped me out with Gamzee doesn’t mean that I suddenly can’t do anything on my own! I can handle myself. I don’t need you to speak for me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You freeze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Terezi, I’m sorry, I didn’t -- I wasn’t trying to do that! I know you can take care of yourself, I know you don’t need me, that’s fucking obvious! I just… the way she was talking to you, like you were something that needed to be fixed -- it pissed me off. It pissed me off so fucking much and I couldn’t stop thinking about the vile shit Gamzee wrote to you--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You read that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just skimmed it, when I had your palmhusk -- it was fucked up, Terezi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she says coldly. “I’m the one he said it to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, right, fuck, sorry, I just,” you lean back against the wall behind you, slide down so you’re sitting, your eye level even with hers. “I know you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> protecting. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect you. We’re moirails, for fuck’s sake, isn’t that what it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be about? Taking care of each other, standing up for each other, threatening to fuck up any asshole who so much as looks at one of us wrong? I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t think you could stand up for yourself. I just -- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stand up for you. I want to back you up whenever you need it, I want to fucking kill anyone who tries to hurt you, not because I don’t think you could do it yourself, but because--” you falter. “Because you shouldn’t have to. Look, I don’t know Aranea, but if she’s anything like me, she’s a manipulative piece of shit, okay? And I just didn’t want to take any chances. I needed her to know that shit wasn’t gonna fly here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” she says, frustration clear in her tone. “Why do you care so much about protecting me? Have you forgotten that I was about to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I don’t understand why you’re willing to go this far to defend me when I was seconds away from stabbing you in the back. I don’t understand how you just -- how you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgave</span>
  </em>
  <span> that! I tried to kill you -- fuck, in another timeline, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill you, and you don’t even seem to care!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to tell her that you’re pretty sure you deserved it anyway, that in some ways, her going through with it might have been a mercy. You don’t know how to tell her that she could kill you a hundred times over and you would still love her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t give you a choice,” you say finally. “You know that, right? I was going to get us all killed. It took Egbert’s freaky retcon powers to present you with a third option. You were doing what you thought you had to do. And yeah, it kinda sucks that you wanted to kill me, but it’s not like I haven’t made my fair share of attempts on your life. I just -- I want to put that behind us. I don’t care that you were going to kill me, because I care more about you. About getting to hang out with you, and being your moirail, and messing around with the rest of these weirdos on this rock until the final battle comes. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Terezi is quiet. The longer the silence stretches on, the more you start to panic, bracing yourself for her to tell you she doesn’t want to be your moirail anymore, that it was all a mistake, that she shouldn’t have brought you back --</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here,” she says, shifting slightly. You try to hide the surprise on your face, tiptoeing over to where she’s curled up in a pile of scalemates. You’re tentative, settling in and hovering your arm over her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I --” you start, and before you can finish she’s grabbing your arm, settling it around her waist. You move in closer to her, so your body is pressed against her back, her head settling neatly into the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. One of her horns is poking you in the chin a little, but you let it slide. You don’t care, as long as you’re holding her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time I need help, I’ll tell you, okay?” she says, and her tone is softer, her words lacking the chill that punctuated them before. Her hand is still on your arm, tracing patterns softly up and down your skin. “I’m sorry for getting mad. I just -- I don’t want you to think I’m some fragile thing that always needs to be watched over. I was going to tell her to fuck off before you said anything, I really was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” you say softly, tightening your grip on her just a little. “You don’t have to be sorry. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry, I should have let you handle it. I just -- I can’t stand watching people say that kind of shit to you. You’re too important.” You don’t say: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I care about you a lot, so much it kills me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You don’t say: </span>
  <em>
    <span>The fact that I hurt you is bad enough, I would die before I let anyone else even try it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re important to me, too, dumbass,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “If we ever see her again, promise you’ll let me be the one to tear her a new one.” You make a noise of affirmation, and then she shifts, turns so she’s facing you, her face inches from yours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s nothing like you,” she says, reaching up a hand to rub circles against your cheekbone. “Not even close. Okay? I mean that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swelling feeling in your chest, the sharpness behind your eyes that means you might be about to cry. You don’t trust yourself to speak; instead you nod, try to smile, and close the gap between you so you can kiss her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it lasts a little longer, if you pull each other a little closer, if she sighs a little and tangles a hand in your hair as you part your lips slightly against hers, well, that’s nobody’s business but yours.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>DREAM BUBBLE CHAPTER!!!! wow we are halfway through (probably a little more than halfway, because these chapters are a little longer than some of the upcoming ones). thank u to everyone who has been reading and commenting, this is my first longfic and seeing ppl's responses really helps w my motivation (motiv8tion? hehe). see u all next time!! ::::)</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. CHAPTER FIVE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey Maryam,” you say when you see her. She’s huddled up on the couch next to Rose, the two of them poring over some boring book about quadrants. She looks at you expectantly, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You really don’t want to do this.</p><p>“Yes, Vriska?” she says, when it becomes clear that you’re not going to say anything.</p><p>“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m asking this. Can you -- can you do something about, uh,” you gesture to the mass of tangled hair currently enveloping you, “this?”</p><p>She grins, marking her place in the book and closing it gently.</p><p>“I’ll get the scissors,” she says, and you try your hardest not to change your mind.</p>
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    <p>You’ve got about half a sweep left on the meteor when you finally decide your hair is getting out of control. Kanaya has been pestering you about it for as long as you can remember, constantly fussing over how unruly it is, but you have refused her offer to give you a trim time and time again. You <em> like </em> your hair messy, and you like it when it’s long, and besides, you don’t need her meddling in your life again. She’s been giving pretty much everyone else on the crew haircuts since the first few perigees passed -- she started with Rose, whose close cropped hair started falling in her eyes early on your journey, but by now has given trims to everyone but you. </p><p>Your problem isn’t that you don’t trust Kanaya to do a good job. Rose’s first haircut had been a little messy, a few uneven pieces sticking out here and there, but the nature of her haircut required Kanaya to touch it up every few weeks anyway, and even you have to admit that she improved greatly with practice. Rose’s frequent haircuts quickly became a way for you to gauge the passage of time as you hurtled through space -- <em> Lalonde’s hair is getting long again, looks like we’ve made it through another two weeks </em> -- as well as a way for Rose and Kanaya to find excuses to spend time together. Soon enough, Kanaya had also managed to wrestle Karkat into a trim too, followed by Dave, who was comically worried about Kanaya messing up his “signature look.” Terezi had been the last to take a trip to the Maryam Salon, after a disastrous and largely inexplicable attempt to cut her own hair led to her looking, as Kanaya put it, “like something the lusus dragged in.” She had had to cut Terezi’s hair shorter than usual to make it look anywhere near presentable, and although it had grown back quickly, you had honestly been a fan of the look. Okay, you might have been a little biased, but still. </p><p>So no, your issue with letting Kanaya fix up your hair doesn’t have much to do with her skills. She’s proven herself in that regard. You just like your hair the way it is! You don’t feel like it needs to change, and besides, you <em> definitely </em> don’t need anyone else’s help to keep up your appearance.</p><p>After nearly a sweep, though, you are starting to get annoyed at how tangled it gets, and Kanaya’s constant pestering shows no sign of slowing down. So one day, after preparing yourself for the humiliation that comes with asking anyone for any kind of help, you march into the library ready to make your request.</p><p>“Hey Maryam,” you say when you see her. She’s huddled up on the couch next to Rose, the two of them poring over some boring book about quadrants. She looks at you expectantly, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You <em> really </em> don’t want to do this.</p><p>“Yes, Vriska?” she says, when it becomes clear that you’re not going to say anything.</p><p>“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m asking this. Can you -- can you do something about, uh,” you gesture to the mass of tangled hair currently enveloping you, “this?”</p><p>She grins, marking her place in the book and closing it gently.</p><p>“I’ll get the scissors,” she says, and you try your hardest not to change your mind.</p><p>--</p><p>“You know, I was beginning to think you were letting your hair get this unruly just to spite me,” Kanaya says as she forces a brush through the knots in your hair that have probably been there for sweeps. When you were moirails, she was always bugging you to brush it more often, despite your constant insistence that you had more important things to do. On occasion, though, you had let her take care of it, allowing yourself to relax while she combed through the mess quietly, meticulously. It feels like an eternity ago, both of you unsure how to navigate your new moirallegiance, all tentative touches and conversations that were more stilted than emotionally honest. You had been playing at being palemates, really, both of you dancing around your feelings, unsure what your new relationship was supposed to look like. You had suspected early on that she was red for you; there had been moments where her gaze had lingered on you a little too long, times where she had rested her hand on your shoulder for just a few seconds more than were strictly necessary. You recognize now that the feeling it gave you, too, had been more than pale, something redder, something different, something you were too scared to confront at the time. So you had kissed Tavros, because that was easy, <em>fated</em>, you told yourself -- you had read of the love between your ancestor and his in Mindfang’s journal, after all -- but Kanaya had lingered on your mind, thoughts of her coming to you even after she cut off all contact, your heart aching for reasons you couldn’t, or maybe didn’t want to, explain.</p><p>You don’t feel those same feelings now as she works the brush through your hair, but the ghost of them seems to fill the room, taking up residence next to the other spectres that seem to haunt your every waking moment. </p><p>“You’re annoying, Fussyfangs, but not <em> that </em> annoying,” you say, smiling slightly as you bring yourself back to the present moment. “I just like my hair the way it is! But the knots were starting to hurt a little, so… had to swallow my pride and take you up on your offer, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad you did,” she says, and you wince as she pulls at a particularly matted section. “I shudder to think what would have become of you if you had left it alone any longer. Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t encountered anything living in here yet, although I suppose there’s still time.”</p><p>You roll your eyes. “It may <em> look </em> bad, but I have standards, Maryam, come on. <em> Ow</em>, do you have to pull that hard?”</p><p>“Given that your hair is so tangled it would put a feral barkbeast to shame, I would say that yes, I do have to pull this hard. Perhaps if you had taken better care of yourself, this would have been a little easier.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you say, but you’re smiling still, despite yourself. “So, while you’re torturing me, give me the scoop. You and Lalonde finally made it official yet?”</p><p>The brush freezes in your hair for a second, and although you can’t see Kanaya’s face, you can imagine the bright jade blush that is almost certainly spreading across her cheeks. She really needs to get over herself, you think -- it’s not like she and Rose haven’t been engaging in embarrassingly public displays of affection since your early days on the meteor, despite their attempts to be discreet.</p><p>“We -- we have entered what you could call a flushed relationship, yes,” Kanaya says, shyness plain in her voice. “Although Rose has been teaching me about the way humans view love, which doesn’t seem to fit into one particular quadrant. I suppose the closest equivalent would be a strange hybrid of pale and flushed romance, although that doesn’t quite encompass everything she’s told me. It’s all still a little difficult for me to wrap my thinkpan around, to be honest.”</p><p>“Humans are weird,” you say, and she hums in agreement. “So you’re… what, matesprits? Or something else?”</p><p>“Matesprit is the term we’ve been using, yes. We haven’t spent too much time discussing the semantics, though, as we’ve mostly been focused on… other things.”</p><p>You let out a low whistle, and she immediately whacks you on the side of the head with the brush.</p><p>“That was not meant to imply -- we’ve spent a great deal of time reading, talking, watching movies…” You snort a little at her flustered attempt to clarify. “You are insufferable, truly,” she says, setting the brush aside and reaching for the scissors. “If you keep this up, my hand might slip you may end up with more than a trim.”</p><p>“Okaaaaaaaay, fine, I’ll lay off!” You raise your hands in surrender. “Don’t fuck up my hair, or like, stab me or something. I was just curious!”</p><p>“Forgiven, for now,” she says, stepping around to look at you. “Are you sure you just want a trim? I think you could look quite fetching if I took a few more inches off.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m fucking sure! The fact that I’m letting you do this at all is a goddamned miracle. Just take off as little as possible, you know, just the dead parts or whatever.”</p><p>“Alright,” she acquiesces, returning to her station behind you, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft snipping sounds that indicate that she’s begun to cut. “You don’t have to hold your breath, Vriska.”</p><p>“I’m not!” you say. </p><p>“Okay,” she says, in that infuriating tone of hers, the one that means she <em> knows </em> you’re full of shit, and keeps cutting. “So, now that you’ve grilled me about my romantic inclinations, I feel it’s only fair that I ask you a few questions of my own.”</p><p>You groan. You should have known she’d do this. She has you trapped -- if you leave now, you’ll be stuck with your hair half-trimmed, and you truly wouldn’t put it past her to take a light stab at you with the scissors and pass it off as a slip of the hand if you try it.</p><p>“Not talking about this!” you insist. “My moirallegiance with Terezi is going great, we’re up to our necks in pale bliss, blah blah blah. That’s all there is to it.”</p><p>“Hmm,” she says, continuing to snip. “And that’s all it is? Just pale?”</p><p>“Yes, that’s all it fucking is,” you say. “And I don’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise, not now, and not over Trollian, either! All displays of affection between Terezi and I have been strictly conciliatory, so stop meddling.”</p><p>“There’s been an awful lot of charged moments, from where I’m standing,” Kanaya says, stepping back for a moment to admire her handiwork before returning to trimming. "Rose said she saw you two exchange a kiss a few days ago, and we've all seen what you two are like during movie nights." </p><p>“Moirails kiss!” you say defensively, making a mental note to tear Rose a new one the next time you see her. “Haven’t you ever seen a pale romflick, come on! Just because you and I didn’t doesn’t mean --”</p><p>The sound of snipping stops. Fuck. You really didn’t mean to go there.</p><p>“Shit, forget I said that. Please don’t cut off a hunk of my hair as payback, I’m begging you.”</p><p>There’s a brief moment of silence, and then she goes back to snipping. “You’re forgiven,” she says, and you think you can make out the hint of a smile in her voice. “I think we can both agree that our moirallegiance was… less than functional, for a multitude of reasons. But that’s not the point here. I <em> have </em> seen my fair share of pale romflicks, but kisses in those films usually only occur at moments where emotions are heightened, unless the film is centered around themes of vacillation. Given that watching that awful human movie about the shipwreck hardly counts as a moment in which extreme conciliatory effort is required, I’m leaning towards vacillation as an explanation for your circumstances. Also, your trim is done.”</p><p>You stand up as quickly as possible. Maybe if you weren’t being subjected to such a <em> ridiculous </em> and uncomfortable line of questioning, you would have taken the time to look in the mirror, but your sole focus has shifted to getting the fuck out of dodge as quickly as possible.</p><p>“It’s none of your business, first of all, and second of all, I’ll say it again: there’s no vacillation going on! And I would really appreciate it if you would keep your mouth shut about this particular subject, especially around Terezi. We’ve got a good thing going, her and me, and I don’t want anything to fuck it up, okay? So just… let me handle it, and stop meddling where it isn’t necessary!”</p><p>She smiles at you knowingly again, and you hate that what you just said feels a little like a confession.</p><p>“I’ll stay out of it,” she says, and now it’s her turn to raise her hands in a show of defeat. “But don’t forget that honest communication is a key pillar to conciliatory relationships.”</p><p>You roll your eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” you say. “Look, thanks for the chop, but I gotta go. I’ll see you around, Maryam.”</p><p>Before she has a chance to reply, you’re turning on your heel and speedwalking out the door.</p><p>Kanaya’s words are still echoing in your mind when you get back to your block to find Terezi lounging on your floor, snickering at something on her palmhusk. Your heart jumps a little at the sight of her, and you force yourself to take a deep breath before you speak.</p><p>“Hey,” you say, and she turns towards the sound of your voice. “What’s so funny?”</p><p>“Just Karkat yelling at himself via memo board again,” she replies. “Never gets old.”</p><p>“I don’t know how you read that shit, it just gives me a headache.” You sit down next to her, poking her in the side in greeting. She sighs and pulls you closer, snaking a hand through your hair.</p><p>“Wait,” she says, her hand stilling. “Did you finally let Kanaya tame the mane? It feels almost… healthy!”</p><p>“Fuck offffffff,” you grumble, even as you sink deeper into her embrace. “Yes, I finally let her deal with it, mostly to get her off my case. And also because the knots were starting to hurt a little.”</p><p>“Well, thank her for me,” Terezi says, returning to running her fingers through your hair. “This makes my job a lot easier.” You have to admit, your newly brushed and trimmed hair does lend itself well to conciliatory scalp rubs. Not that you’d ever tell Kanaya that. Instead you hum in agreement, letting your eyes flutter closed as she moves one of her hands to your horns as your mind drifts to Kanaya’s words again, despite your best efforts. You and Terezi still haven’t talked about the kiss you shared, perigees ago now -- all you know is that it hasn’t happened again, despite the stupid little part of you that really, really, wants it to. You’ve come to the conclusion that she probably thinks it was a mistake, a lapse in judgement brought on by heightened emotions, and you’ve accepted that. <em> Pale is good enough </em> , you remind yourself. <em> Don’t fuck this up just because you’re delusional and stupid and greedy. Don’t fuck this up, because if you lose her again, I will never forgive you </em>.</p><p>You’re not sure you’re really able to forgive yourself for anything you’ve done in the first place, but that’s beside the point.</p><p>“Stop thinking so hard,” she says, interrupting your panic -- you must have tensed without realizing it. You force yourself to relax, focusing on the feeling of your body against hers, the warmth of her skin on yours. She starts telling you about something she witnessed today in one of the meteor’s many hallways, something about Dave and Karkat and a shockingly phallic game of hopscotch, and you let her voice lull you into a peaceful state, her hands never stilling in your hair.</p><p>--</p><p>Time passes quickly as your journey winds down. You yourself are not acutely aware of the rate at which the seconds go by as you hurtle through space, but Dave, whose god tier powers include an uncanny awareness of <em> exactly </em> what time it is, does, and he announces one morning at breakfast that you have about six human months left until you reach your destination. It’s been a few weeks since you last played D&amp;D time for group get-togethers has often been forgotten in favor of the six of you splitting off into your respective pairs. Rose, however, upon hearing the news of just how little time you have left, insists on squeezing an extra session in to mark the occasion, and the rest of you can’t help but agree. </p><p>Kanaya shows up in costume, which has become tradition for her over your time on the meteor -- for the past few sessions, she’s arrived in increasingly elaborate hand sewn getups, insisting that costume is an essential facet of getting into character. You know Terezi likes to sew with her sometimes, but you’ve never really seen the appeal. Still, you have to admit it’s a little impressive. Today she's dressed in a deep emerald green dress complete with a hood and a long skirt that nearly reaches the floor. You're not sure it would be the most practical clothing for an adventuring session, but it certainly looks nice. </p><p>Your party is currently deep in an underground tomb, much to Kanaya’s chagrin. “I thought this was supposed to be a form of escapism from our current situation,” she grumbles as she rolls a perception check to search your surroundings for monsters. “And instead we are plunged into darkness once again.”</p><p>“Relaaaaaaaax, Fussyfangs, you have darkvision! Also, it’s a game, and we’ll be out of this tomb sooner if you stop complaining. Now what’d you roll?” you say, craning your neck to read the number on her die. </p><p>“I believe that’s a question <em> I </em>should be asking, Vriska,” Rose says. Kanaya reads out her roll -- it’s decent, at least -- and Rose informs her of your surroundings. Terezi perks up at the mention of an ornate chest in the center of the room.</p><p>“The Unerring Eye walks up to the chest and proceeds to inspect it for traps,” she says, grinning devilishly. She rolls with a dramatic flourish, and you lean over to read the number out for her. </p><p>“Three,” you say, patting her on the shoulder lightly in sympathy. “Too bad I can’t steal luck for you!”</p><p>“You don’t notice any traps,” Rose says wryly. “Or anything else, for that matter.”</p><p>“I’ll investigate,” you say. “Kysna’s modifier may not be as high as Torrin’s, but I do have luck on my side.”</p><p>“It’s <em> The Unerring Eye </em>,” Terezi huffs, at the same time that Rose and Kanaya say in unison, “No stealing luck!”</p><p>“Jeez, calm down everyone! Just let me roll.” You close your eyes as you roll your favored die in your hands, resisting the urge to try gank just a little bit of luck from one of your fellow players. You don’t always need to steal -- sometimes you’re lucky enough on your own, as it turns out. The die clatters out of your hand and onto the table. You take a look at it and grin triumphantly. Looks like luck has decided to take your side today, no theft necessary.</p><p>“Natural 20,” you crow, sitting back in your chair and folding your arms smugly. </p><p>“No fucking way, I know you stole from one of us,” Karkat says, whipping his head around the table suspiciously, as if glancing at everyone would somehow reveal the victim of your (nonexistent) crime. </p><p>“I didn’t! Jesus, Vantas, have a little faith!” You look at Rose, who looks only mildly irritated. “Come on, Lalonde, even I couldn’t have gotten away with stealing while everyone was paying attention. That 20 came fair and square.”</p><p>“I have to admit, I didn’t sense any luck theft before the roll,” she says, and then smirking, adds: “Did any of you feel the strands of fortune being tugged away from your very essence?”</p><p>Your fellow party members shake their heads, some of them more reluctantly than others. </p><p>“The roll is valid then,” Rose proclaims, and proceeds to describe a number of exceedingly deadly traps that would have been sprung had the chest been opened recklessly. </p><p>“You’re welcome, everyone!” you say, and Terezi punches you in the side as Kanaya rolls her eyes and Karkat grumbles something about not trusting you as far as he can throw you. The party continues to investigate, and you end up having to take down some Will-O-Wisps before claiming your treasure. Dave and Karkat bicker back and forth about where to go next as your crew returns to the surface, and although for all intents and purposes they appear to be at each other’s throats, there’s a smile on both of their faces that makes you raise an eyebrow. Huh. Those two. Who woulda thought. </p><p>You’ve reached a decent stopping point, and Kanaya has had to stifle three yawns in the past five minutes, so you all collectively decide to call it a night. Or day, or whatever. Rose wishes everyone a good last six months as she and Kanaya head out, and it hits you suddenly just how little time you have left. Six months is nothing, really, in the grand scheme of things, and despite how restless being stuck on this rock can make you feel, you find yourself consumed with dread at the prospect of the impending end of your journey. You don’t know what lies beyond this -- none of you do, really. It’s highly possible that many of you won’t survive the final battle, and even if you do, there’s no telling what comes next. It’s terrifying, you realize, the inevitability of change, the unavoidable end. </p><p>You look at Terezi and your bloodpusher aches. Six months left with her, in this limbo where all you really have is each other. Six months before the world comes crashing back into your lives, before circumstance and consequence may once again alter the bond you’ve worked so hard to build. It makes you panic a little to think about it, and you try to relax, to remind yourself to savor this bit of time you have left with her.</p><p>“You okay?” comes her voice, and you’re grateful for the excuse to snap yourself out of your spiral. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” you say, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “Come on, dumbass, let’s go to bed.”</p><p>You make your way back to her block, Terezi catching your hand in hers as you walk down the winding corridors. She swings your clasped hands idly back and forth, the two of you steeped in comfortable silence. She lets go of your hand to open the door when you arrive at her block, and you try not to feel disappointment at the loss of contact -- you know that's the kind of thing she can sense.</p><p>Once you’re inside, you try to push the thoughts that plagued you at the session out of your mind, but you can’t. She’s tidying up a pile of chalk on the floor when you decide to speak, against your better judgement. </p><p>“So, six human months left, huh? Whatever that even means.”</p><p>She pauses. “Yeah, I guess so. Kinda crazy. It’ll be good to get off this rock, though.” There’s a sentiment behind her words you can’t quite identify, something that makes you think she’s not saying everything that’s on her mind.</p><p>You laugh a little, but it comes out sounding hollow. “Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be good.” She doesn’t respond immediately, and the air feels heavy, in a way it doesn’t usually when you’re with her. </p><p>“What are you gonna do?” you ask finally, desperate to break the silence. “Uh. When this is all over.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” she says. She’s still working on the same pile of chalk, and when you look closer you realize she’s been putting the same piece into the box and taking it out again, over and over. “I don’t know if any of us do. If we survive -- which isn’t guaranteed, as the note from my other self continues to remind me -- I guess we’ll just have to figure it out.”</p><p>“Yeah,” you say. “It’s weird to think that we won’t be going home. Like, Alternia wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it was home, you know? We were used to it.” She nods, still focused on the chalk. “We’ll have each other, though,” you add, and then, before you can help it, despite how embarrassingly pathetic it sounds: “Right?”</p><p>She stops arranging the chalk, finally, and walks over to you, placing her hands on your shoulders.</p><p>“Obviously,” she says. “Is this what you were looking all freaked out about in the library? Worried I was gonna ditch you when we got to the new universe?”</p><p>“No,” you say, but you’re blushing. “It’s just... weird to think that this is almost over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not nervous for the battle -- that’s gonna be fine, we’re gonna kick ass, <em> obviously </em> -- but what comes after is a different story. Like, are really just going to resign ourselves to a quiet life on some weird version of the humans’ planet? I can’t even picture that! I’m not -- I’m not used to stuff like that. I don’t know if I’m cut out for it.” There’s more you could say. You could tell her you’re not sure if you <em> deserve </em> the kind of quiet life the humans tell you awaits in the new universe. You could tell her that you’re not sure you know how to live in a world where you aren’t making the kind of heroic sacrifices that cancel out even the worst of the deeds you’ve done in the past. You could tell her that you’re not sure peace is something you were made for. You don’t, though, because honesty has never been your strong suit. Instead, you smile a little, scuff your foot against the floor, and finish lamely, saying, “I don’t know. It sounds dumb, now that I say it. I think I’m just tired.”</p><p>“It’s not dumb,” she says, and leans in to give you a kiss on the nose. “I get what you mean.” She pauses. “We’ll be okay, Vriska.” She doesn’t sound sure. You let it slide.</p><p>“Yeah. Not just okay -- we’re gonna be great!” you say, pulling her with you to the edge of her cupe. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid in the space between your bodies, only a few inches wide but endless at the same time. You have six months left with this girl before everything changes, but right now you don’t want to think about an ending. You just want to hold her.</p><p>You slide into the recuperacoon and she joins you, settling her body comfortably against yours. You try not to think about the fact that time is running out. You try not to think about the fact that you don’t know what the future holds for either of you, or the fact that you’re not sure if it’s a future you deserve. You focus on her, her breathing, the way she nestles her head in the crook of your neck, the warmth of her body against yours. You try to memorize the feeling of holding her, etching every detail firmly into your mind.</p><p>You don’t fall asleep for a long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ahhh we're getting close to the end! wtf! if u aren't familiar with dnd, hopefully the gameplay passage wasn't too jargon-y -- i just wanted to give these kids a chance to play before The Endgame arrives. i'm hoping to still post updates roughly weekly, but i'm starting school again soon, so they might slow down a bit, but i do have the next ~chapter and a half written so those should be out on schedule. as always, thank u so much for reading!!!</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. CHAPTER SIX</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s an obvious conclusion, and it’s not as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it hits you in a realer way, the concept made tangible by the fact that you have mere months until the battle begins. Someone -- one person, if you want to be practical and spare as many people as you can, which you do -- is going to have to face the Lord of Time himself, risking total obliteration in a way that is hard to fully comprehend. Someone is going to have to be a hero, in the truest sense of the word. Someone is going to have to make the ultimate sacrifice to make sure that asshole can’t bother anyone ever again.</p><p>That person, you realize almost calmly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, has to be you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few months -- it’s been long enough that you’ve started calling them that, human and troll terms blending into one confusing dialect that's gonna be a bitch to explain to the people you meet on the other side of this -- pass in a blur of strategizing and sparring and occasional movie watching. You spend most of your spare time with Terezi, sometimes practicing combat, other times working on elaborate pranks to pull on Dave and Karkat, but what you find yourselves doing less and less of is <em> talking</em>. It’s not that you don’t talk at all -- you laugh together, have long conversations about the worst parts of various films Karkat has forced you to suffer through, tease each other about pretty much anything you can think of, but you don’t have the kind of talks you’re pretty sure moirails are <em> supposed </em> to have. You engage in surface level approximations of what one could call a feelings jam, asking each other what’s wrong or inquiring as to how the other is feeling, but there’s always something missing. You know she’s holding back, and what’s more, you know that she can tell that you’re holding back too, but neither of you are bold enough to say anything about it. It’s easy, comfortable, the banter between you, the shenanigans you get up to, the lighter stuff you talk about that doesn’t make your insides twist. You don’t talk about the kisses you’ve shared that toe the line between pale and something else, something more dangerous, something you’re too scared to confront for fear of it ruining everything; you don’t address the stilted nature of your emotional conversations, the feeling that there’s some obstacle between you, an unknown force stopping you from being the kind of vulnerable that one is meant to be with their moirail. You don’t address these things, because not addressing them is the easier option, the safe option, the one that doesn’t challenge everything you have worked so hard to build ever since that night on the rooftop over a sweep ago.</p><p>It’s easy to avoid these kinds of conversations, anyway, when you’re spending the majority of your time locked in strategy meetings. You’re getting close enough to your arrival date that the meetings have gone from abstract, conceptual ramblings to genuine planning sessions, complete with charts and calculations and whatever other bullshit Rose deems necessary. You’re involved enough that you’ve taken on the title of leader (co-leader, in Rose's estimation, but she doesn’t have a say in how you describe yourself when she's not around) and have been spending more time than you’d like to going over potential ideas with Rose long after everyone else has gone to bed. In this particular meeting, she’s talking about the components of the final battle -- all the various enemies you’re going to face, which assets you’ll have available to defeat them -- and you come to a realization.</p><p><em> Someone’s going to have to fight Lord English</em>.</p><p>It’s an obvious conclusion, and it’s not as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it hits you in a realer way, the concept made tangible by the fact that you have mere months until the battle begins. Someone -- one person, if you want to be practical and spare as many people as you can, which you do -- is going to have to face the Lord of Time himself, risking total obliteration in a way that is hard to fully comprehend. Someone is going to have to be a hero, in the truest sense of the word. Someone is going to have to make the ultimate sacrifice to make sure that asshole can’t bother anyone ever again.</p><p>That person, you realize almost calmly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, has to be you.</p><p>It’s an easy choice to make on an individual level: you’ve never really worried much about taking risks. Either you’ll die a hero, an outcome you’ve always been able to accept, or, because you’re you, you’ll take him out and live to tell the tale, arriving in whatever new universe awaits you in a blaze of glory. No matter what happens, you’ll be <em> important</em>, you’ll save countless lives from evil, you’ll shut up anyone who ever believed you a villain, including the fucked up mechanics of paradox space that deemed your death <em> Just </em> in another timeline. You’ll show all of them.</p><p>But then there’s her. You think about Terezi, about the possibility of leaving her behind, never seeing her again, and your bloodpusher <em> aches</em>. You’re acutely aware of her presence next to you, the way she’s leaning forward with her chin on her hands, her brow furrowed in concentration as she listens to Rose explain one of her more detailed plans. Her leg is touching yours under the table, and you want to cry at the thought of never having this kind of contact with her again. But if you don’t take out English -- and you have to be honest, you have the best chance of fucking him up out of everyone in your crew -- he could kill her, and everyone else you know, in an instant. He could find his way to the new universe and destroy it the way he’s destroyed so many others, and you can’t let that happen. Not to her.</p><p>You are essential to victory; you know this, you always have. But you have never deserved the spoils. So you make up your mind, right then and there: you will be the one to fight him. You will be a hero for yourself, for your crew, but most importantly, for her. If you make it out alive -- you can already see yourself assuring everyone that you will, but deep down, you know it’s more likely that you won’t -- then that’s just an added bonus. Let anyone try to call you a villain after making the most heroic sacrifice imaginable. You will prove yourself, you will save everyone, you will be a hero -- not in the misguided way you thought you were when you were preparing to fight Jack, but for real this time. </p><p>Terezi pokes you in the side, and you realize the meeting has come to a close -- Rose is rolling up the sheet of poster paper she was using to illustrate one of the plans the two of you had come up with together a few nights prior, and Dave and Karkat have already started bickering about something involving The Mayor and the newest neighborhood in Can Town. </p><p>“What’s going on in there?” she says, poking you again, this time on your temple. You open your mouth, but for a moment, nothing comes out -- you can’t tell her. You don’t think you could force the words out even if you <em> wanted </em> to; you can already imagine the look on her face, the concerned and then angry tone her voice will take on as she tries to convince you that it doesn’t have to be you, that there’s someone else who can take on the battle that you’re starting to think you were hatched to fight. So you take a deep breath, and do what you’ve been doing for so long that it comes as easily as breathing: you lie.</p><p>“Just thinking up a better version of that dumb plan Lalonde was yapping about for the past hour,” you say, doing your best to imbue your tone with your trademark Serket Confidence. “These gears are always turnin’!”</p><p>“I thought you and Rose came up with this plan together,” she says, confusion in her tone. “Isn’t that what you two have been talking about for the past few nights?”</p><p>Shit. </p><p>“Oh, uh, yeah,” you say, flustered, and then do your best to recover. “But that doesn’t mean the plan can’t be improved! Besides, she took some liberties with my suggestions, which is to say she ignored most of them, so I think some changes are in order.” This is a half-truth -- she <em> did </em> reject a fair amount of your brilliant suggestions, but you weren’t exactly listening closely enough to hear how many of your ideas made the final cut. From the look on Terezi’s face, you can tell she doesn’t quite buy your excuses, but to your relief she doesn’t press any further. </p><p>“Okay, weirdo,” she says, and if there’s a slight hollowness to her words, she makes up for it by ruffling your hair affectionately. It’s just the two of you in the library now -- you’re not sure when Rose and Kanaya left, but you’re grateful to have the space to yourself with Terezi. Now that you know what you need to do, your time with her feels all the more precious. If you’re honest, you think a part of you has known this had to happen for a while: you think back to your conversation with Terezi you had on the night marking the last six months of your journey, the sense of dread that pervaded it, the feeling of running out of time. You know there is a chance you’ll survive this; if anyone asked, you’d put the probability at around 100%, just as much for your benefit as for theirs, but deep down, you know the odds are much lower. These next few weeks on the meteor are likely the last you’ll have with her, and you think you’d rather die Just all over again than ruin them by telling her your plan. You reach out a hand to her and she takes it, squeezing slightly, and there’s so much you want to say to her, confessions that threaten to bubble up out of you if you open your mouth, so you keep quiet. You’re beyond relieved when she breaks the silence first.</p><p>“I know it’s late, but… you wanna watch a movie?” You don’t point out that there’s really no such thing as “early” or “late” when you’re this deep in the Furthest Ring. Instead you nod, heading over to the couch.</p><p>“You pick,” you say, a rare privilege you would only ever afford to Terezi. The unspoken meaning behind it is glaringly obvious: <em> I don’t care what we do, as long as we do it together</em>. She grins at you in a way that tells you she’s picked up on the sentiment behind your relatively simple offer, and makes a show of flicking through various titles on the husktop you use as a television before settling on a title you’ve never heard of before. </p><p>You barely pay attention to whatever it is you’re watching -- you focus instead on her as she cuddles against you on the couch, her hand intertwined with yours and her head in your lap. You run your hands through her hair, which has just about grown back to the length it was before Rose had to cut it short to clean it up, and she sighs contentedly against your shirt. She falls asleep before the film is halfway over, and you use one hand to take off her glasses gently as you do so often when she falls asleep with them on, continuing to rub circles on her scalp with the other. Without her signature red shades, her face relaxed in sleep, she looks so much softer, so much more vulnerable than you’re used to. You resist the urge to run a finger over the network of scars underneath her eyes, thin raised lines that branch out in all directions, for fear of waking her up. You hate looking at them -- hate the reminder of what you did to her, the pain and suffering you put her through for some fucked up idea of revenge -- but they also fascinate you. They’re a part of her, a part of her she has because of <em> you</em>, and you find yourself wishing for a split second that you still had your eye patch and metal arm, that the parts of you she altered and broke hadn’t been smoothed over when you rose up on Skaia’s battlefield. You used to bear the scars of each other’s warped attempts at vengeance -- it still hurt to look at what you did to her, but at least you were even. You think back to her turning down Aranea’s offer, and wonder if you would have done the same if you had been given the choice, if paradox space had offered you the chance to refuse the regrowth of your arm and the return of your vision eightfold. You’d like to think you would have chosen the same thing she did, but you know deep down you wouldn’t have -- you’re too selfish, too obsessed with perfection. You are not good like her, you never have been, but you want to be. </p><p>You’re going to miss her. You’re going to miss her so much it’s going to tear a hole in you, if Lord English doesn’t get there first. But you want to be good. You want to be worthy of being loved by someone like Terezi. So you will fight, heroically, for time and space and all of your friends, but most importantly, you will fight for her. And you will come back to her, you promise yourself as you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, no matter what it takes. You will save a universe and do everything in your power to claw your way back to her, even if it kills you, because she is the only thing in this stupid, twisted existence that has ever made sense to you. </p><p>Your hand drops from her hair as you succumb to sleep, and the last thing you remember is the feeling of your fingers brushing the ridges beneath her eyes as your hand falls.</p><p>--</p><p>Your plan not to tell anyone about what you’re going to do goes well for a while. You’ve always been good at keeping up appearances, at hiding the fear and doubt inside of you under layers and layers of meticulously constructed bravado -- all you have to do to hide this particular secret is turn up the dial on your performance a bit. You can sense that Terezi doesn’t quite buy it -- she notices when you tense during strategy meetings, asks you what’s wrong when you get so lost in thoughts of how you’re going to do it that you don’t realize you’ve been staring silently at the wall for ten minutes. You hate lying to her, and you know a good moirail doesn’t keep secrets from their palemate, much less ones as significant as this. But every time you think about telling her your throat gets tight, your thoughts swimming with scenarios where she yells at you, threatens to break off your moirallegiance, or even worse, ones where she walks away in silence. The thought of losing her any sooner than you have to is enough to rekindle the familiar feeling of panic in your chest that used to overtake you on particularly bad nights on Alternia, so you keep your mouth shut. And for her part, she doesn’t push you too hard. She lets you pretend, and you’re grateful for that.</p><p>Rose, however, does not afford you that same courtesy. You’re about a month out from your destination after one of your strategy meetings, just the two of you in the library ironing out some of your newer plans after everyone else has cleared out to go to bed. You’re poring over one of her more complicated diagrams when her voice cuts through your thoughts, calm and sure.</p><p>“So, what’s your plan for yourself in all of this?”</p><p>You freeze. “What?” you sputter, trying your best to maintain composure.</p><p>“What role in the final battle do you plan to fulfill? I’m aware we agreed to wait to assign final roles until we meet up with the others in the new session, but I’m sure someone as skilled in battle and as… interested in relevance as you are would have a plan up her sleeve.”</p><p>You laugh harshly. “I don’t have a plan for myself,” you lie, and you pray your tone is sure enough to convince her. “Like you said, we’ll decide when we get to the new session.”</p><p>“Really?” she asks, moving a step closer to you, one eyebrow raised, and now you <em> know </em> she’s not buying it. Fuck. “I’ve noticed you go unusually quiet whenever a certain Lord of Time is brought up, and I know you well enough now to know what you look like when you’re thinking. So I’m going to ask again: are you <em> sure </em> you don’t have a plan for the role you’ll play when it comes time to confront our enemies?”</p><p>She’s staring at you intently, jaw set in a firm line, violet eyes burning into yours. You open your mouth to lie again, but you find that you <em> can’t</em>, not when you’re pretty sure she knows exactly what you’re thinking, so instead you drop your shoulders in defeat and slump down into the chair behind you.</p><p>“It seems like you already know what my plan is, so why are you even asking me? But yeah, fucking fine, I’m gonna fight English. There’s your answer. Happy?”</p><p>She pauses, sitting down in the chair across the table from you, leaning forward with her chin on her hands. </p><p>“I take it you haven’t told Terezi?”</p><p>“I haven’t told fucking anyone! I wasn’t going to tell you, either, until you decided to do your whole psychoanalysis routine on me. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around, because I know she’s going to try to stop me, or freak out at me, or leave me altogether if she finds out, and I -- I can’t deal with that right now. So yes, I’m going to fight him, you were right, go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back for your fucking foresight or whatever, but if you tell a goddamn soul, Lalonde, I will never forgive you.”</p><p>“I have no plans to tell anyone, Vriska,” she says, still fixing you with that infuriating stare. “I merely wanted to know if my suspicions were correct. It’s your decision. And for what it’s worth, I think your plan to fight him is commendable. It’s highly dangerous and incredibly stupid, but I can’t say I haven’t had my fair share of… similar ideas.”</p><p>Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. You think you vaguely know what she’s talking about -- you’ve heard Dave talking to her in hushed tones about the Green Sun before, something about being reckless and getting lucky and promising never to pull a stunt like that again -- but you’ve never been quite clear on the details. </p><p>“Oh, have you?” you say, feigning disinterest as best as you can, even as you ask her to elaborate. “Enlighten me.”</p><p>She sits back slightly, raising her eyes up towards the ceiling. “I assume you’re aware that the Green Sun hasn’t always existed.” You nod. “Right. Well, during our session, I was… led to believe otherwise. I was told, by an unseen force, that what I had to do to save our session was to blow up the Sun. The mission seemed to guarantee certain death, but it also guaranteed relevance, the kind of importance I had previously only read about. I figured there was no one else suited for the job, and to be completely honest, I didn’t really care enough about my own existence to worry about if I would make it out alive. So I made up my mind that I would be the one to initiate the explosion.”</p><p>She pauses, adjusting the cowl of her Seer robes around her neck.</p><p>“Dave had… reservations about the whole thing, but I managed to take him out of commission and begin piloting Derse’s moon towards my destination. Only he managed to wake up and catch up with me before I arrived, and the two of us ended up detonating the bomb that we thought would destroy the sun together. I was furious -- I didn’t want him to die with me. The whole plan was that it was to be<em> my </em>sacrifice, a deed I did to save the others at my own expense. I never wanted anyone else to be a casualty of my own desire for heroism.”</p><p>“But you both lived,” you point out. “I’m assuming that’s how you god tiered? So in the end, it wasn’t a suicide mission at all! Just like mine isn’t, because there’s no guarantee that I’ll die fighting Lord English. I mean, sure, there’s a risk, but it’s not like I haven’t gotten out of stickier situations before!”</p><p>“I’m not sure what qualifies as a ‘stickier situation’ than fighting the Lord of Time himself, but I digress,” Rose says, smirking at you slightly. “The point is, I understand where you’re coming from. It wasn’t possible to talk me out of my mission, and I’m sure it won’t be possible for me to talk you out of yours, so I’m not going to try. That being said, I do think you should consider the implications of your plan. I’m sure you have a better chance than most of making it out of this alive, but I cannot overstate just how dangerous of an enemy he is. Are you sure you want to take that risk?”</p><p>“Someone has to!” you say indignantly, folding your arms over your chest. “And you said it yourself, I have a better chance than most. Especially once I get my hands on that treasure we’ve been hearing about.” She sighs, and just <em> looks </em> at you in that way that makes you want to break something. “Look, I know you haven’t known me for that long, but I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit, alright? Like, a lot. And this just seems like -- like a chance to make it right, you know? I mean, fuck, in that other timeline, the one where Terezi killed me, I died Just. How fucked up is that? Like, seriously, you have to suck pretty badly for paradox space to decide you deserve to permadie, but I guess I met that standard.” You scoff, biting the inside of your lip to quell the angry stinging behind your eyes. You get it under control pretty quickly -- you have sweeps of experience, after all -- and if Rose notices, she doesn’t say anything. “I just… I want to do something <em> good</em>. I want to save our new universe from that asshole, so that when all the little grubs and whatever the fuck you call your human wrigglers are crawling around on whatever planet they end up inhabiting, they know it was Vriska Serket who gave them the peaceful, boring existence they get to experience. If I make it back and I can be there to tell my own story, that’s great, but if not, I want people to remember me that way. As a good person, the person that saved them. As a hero. And true heroism, the kind that actually fucking matters, that kind demands sacrifice. So you wanna know if I’m sure I have to take this risk? Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. Because if I don’t, Lalonde, I don’t know how I’m going to fucking live with myself.”</p><p>You’re a little out of breath, and your cheeks flush a bit as you take a moment to process what you just said. You weren’t intending to be that honest with Rose -- if anything, this is probably something you should be telling Terezi -- but something about her story, about the way she looks at you not with pity or concern but a quiet understanding, makes it feel easier to tell the truth. You know Rose won’t ask you to stay, and if she were to try, you would have no problem telling her no. She doesn’t say anything immediately, just studies your face, and you shift uncomfortably in the silence.</p><p>“Very well,” she says finally, leaning back in her chair. “It seems you’ve made up your mind, and as a fellow Light player, I know there’s nothing I can do to change that. But for what it’s worth, I really do think you should tell Terezi about your plan.”</p><p>“I’m going to!” you say defensively. “Just… not yet. It’s taken us a long time to get where we are, you know?”</p><p>“Hmm. And where is that, exactly?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You know what I mean. I know Kanaya’s asked you about it before -- is what you and Terezi have strictly pale, or have you moved into redder territory? Forgive me if I’m not using those terms quite right, I’m still relatively new to the subject of troll romance.”</p><p>You groan. “Why does everyone keep asking me this! We are in a very happy, stable, pale relationship, nothing more, nothing less, and I really wish people would stop insinuating otherwise!”</p><p>“Alright, alright, my apologies,” Rose says, but there’s a knowing grin on her face that makes you want to tear out your hair. “I was just wondering. If you claim that’s all there is to it, I’m inclined to believe you. Again, though, from what I’ve learned about moirallegiance, emotional honesty is a key tenet of the quadrant. So perhaps to keep your relationship stable and happy, you should stop keeping secrets from Terezi.”</p><p>At face value, her words seem to be referencing your battle plans, but the way she’s staring at you and the slight raise of her eyebrows tells you that that’s not the only secret she’s referring to. Part of you wishes you could just say it -- to blurt out to Rose like some kind of sad loser that okay, fine, maybe your feelings for Terezi <em>aren't</em> strictly pale, and no, you can’t tell her, because you know she doesn’t feel the same, and telling her would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build together -- but you won't. It’s what someone weaker than you would do, and you are not weak. No matter how much it burns you alive to hold in the truth, you will not let it out. There are already so many secrets that are blazing a hole through your insides, years of guilt and pain and longing that you keep locked away even from yourself save for your very darkest moments. What’s one more secret going to do? You are already burning.</p><p>You take a deep breath. “Like I said, I’ll tell her on my own time. And I’d appreciate it if you and Fussyfangs would keep your noses out of our business. You don’t see me meddling in your relationship!”</p><p>“Actually, I seem to recall quite a few instances of you doing exactly that, including one very interestingly titled memo board, as well as the fact that we caught you spying on us just the other night.”</p><p>You flush a little. “I wasn’t <em> spying</em>, I just needed to make sure everything was in check! I am the leader here, after all. Making sure my crew members are in good shape is kind of my job!”</p><p>“Oh, so you’re the leader now? Because I seem to remember Aradia designating that title to me all those years ago. I believe 'co-leader' was the term we agreed upon.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, who cares what Aradia thinks? I was brought back to save this timeline, which I’m doing a pretty good job of, no thanks to most of you, so I think that automatically designates me as the true leader here. And as your leader, I demand that you stop meddling in my romantic affairs and focus your attention on finding the path to the most fortuitous outcome, or whatever the fuck it is Seers are supposed to do!”</p><p>“I would argue that finding that path <em> is </em> by definition something a leader would do, but I digress. If you’re so intent on claiming the title of leader for yourself, so be it. I’m not sure I have it in me to care about such meaningless designations anymore. Co-leader, leader -- they're all just titles, anyway.”</p><p>Her haughty tone infuriates you. What she says is technically a concession, but the way she says it is something else -- she’s telling you that she’ll always think of herself as more important than you, whatever you do, whatever you call yourself, however long you spend insisting on your position as leader. It makes you angry, but it also stirs up something else -- a kind of respect, a begrudging concession of your own: she’s good at the game you both play. You’re better -- at least that’s what you tell yourself -- but she knows what she’s doing, too. You can’t deny it, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to admit it to her, either.</p><p>“Whatever,” you say, as you move to head out of the room for bed. “Wanna meet early tomorrow before the meeting, just to get everything squared away before the rest of the chumps show up?” It’s not an apology, but it’s the closest you’re going to come.</p><p>“Sure,” Rose says, after a brief moment of hesitation. “I’ll see you then.”</p><p>“Good,” you say, but something stops you right before you head out the door. You turn back to her, your mind returning to the portion of your conversation about Kanaya, and you guess some part of you isn't done being embarrassingly honest tonight, because before you can think about it you’re speaking.</p><p>“You know, it really does seem like you and Fussyfangs have a good thing going,” you say. “I’m happy for you two. She deserves --" <em>she deserves better than me</em>, you think, but cut yourself off before you can say something so pathetic and stupid -- "she deserves someone like you," you finish lamely, doing everything you can not to meet Rose's eyes.</p><p>It’s your own kind of concession, and you regret it already, but before Rose can respond you’re out the door, feet pounding against the concrete floor as you make your way back to your block.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we are rapidly approachin the endgame here! just wanna note that vriska is being a Very unreliable narrator here re terezi -- i am not the kind of vrisrezi who thinks terezi is good and perfect and vriska is the root of all their problems. vriska, however, is that kind of vrisrezi, because she is dumb and repressed! queen please read wild geese by mary oliver<br/>anyway they are both flawed and very in love and very dumb about it. thank u as always for reading :')</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. CHAPTER SEVEN</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>People like you don’t get happy endings, you remind yourself. People like you get, at best, a heroic death, one final sacrifice to create a safer world for people better, more deserving than you. People like her. Sure, she’ll miss you a little, but you know she’ll be okay. You, however, you think it might tear you apart, missing her, if Lord English doesn’t get there first. But there’s nothing to be done about it. Heroism demands sacrifice, you know this better than most, and if you don’t do this, there might not be a universe to live in after the battle is won. So you will fight for her, and either you’ll make it back to her or you’ll die trying.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if u want to be emo listen to easy silence -- dixie chicks while u read the vrisrezi last night together scene :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’re about a week out from your destination, at least according to Rose’s calculations, when you decide to tell Terezi. Part of you had wanted to wait until your last night, to draw out the illusion of an imminent and happy future together in a new universe as long as possible, but the thought of spending your final hours with her having to explain your choice is almost too much to bear. You’re worried, of course, that telling her now will cause her to draw away from you, that maybe you won’t even <em> have </em> those final few hours with her if she decides once again, like she did on Alternia all those sweeps ago, that she wants nothing more to do with you. But you’re tired of lying. You’ve been lying all your life, to her, to your friends, to yourself, and you’re exhausted. You aren’t sure anymore where the lies end and the real you begins, how much of you is genuine and how much is constructed bravado, armor you have built up around yourself to keep anyone else from getting a look at the person beneath. She is the only person who has ever seen through it, who has found the cracks and seams and pried them apart to <em> see </em> you, and you can’t bear the thought of hiding this from her any longer. There are some parts of you that you think you will always hide, but this, this is something you can tell her. This is something you <em> have </em> to tell her. </p><p>You find her in her block, drawing on the walls, colorful chalk dragons with bright red eyes and sharp teeth. There’s a drawing of the both of you, too, blue and teal stick figures holding hands, a pale pink diamond drawn in between you. You had drawn it together a few days before, pretending you were making fun of Nepeta’s shipping grids despite the fact that drawing it had made you feel a special kind of warmth deep in your bones. Looking at it now makes your bloodpusher ache. It’s the kind of thing both of you would have laughed at if it were anyone else, and it’s still a little too sappy for either of you to outwardly discuss, but the fact that she hasn’t erased it, that you haven’t asked her to, speaks volumes. You clear your throat to announce your presence, and she laughs, still focusing on the dragon she’s etching into the wall.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that every time, you know,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “I can smell blueberry from halfway across the meteor.” You make a noncommittal noise of acquiescence and sit down next to her on the floor, leaning your head on her shoulder. You accidentally poke her cheek with one of your horns in the process, and she shoves you off playfully before pulling you back in and wrapping you in a hug. She’s warm, just a little bit warmer than you, and her hands ghost up and down your back, tracing small circles on your spine. You sigh into her shoulder and try to savor the feeling of being close to her, the special kind of safety you feel in moments like these. You let yourself linger for a while, pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck, and now it’s her turn to sigh. There’s a part of you that’s tempted to stay like this, to reach a hand into her hair and run your fingers over her scalp and her horns until you both fall asleep, but you can’t. You have to tell her. You have to.</p><p>You make yourself pull back, and she flinches almost imperceptibly at the loss of contact, which is almost enough to make you say fuck it and pull her back in and forget all of it. But you need to do this. You need to do this because if you don’t tell her now, you’re not sure if you ever will. </p><p>“What’s up?” she says, because of course she can sense that there’s something you need to say. She always sees through you, even when you’re trying your hardest not to be seen. </p><p>“Uh,” you say helpfully. “Fuck.”</p><p>“‘Uh, fuck?’” she says, her mouth twisted up in that way of hers that almost looks like a question mark. You wish she would stop doing things that make your bloodpusher twist in your chest. It’s only making this harder. “Scintillating! Tell me more.”</p><p>You laugh harshly, trying to steel yourself. <em> Just fucking say it, Serket</em>, you tell yourself. <em> This shouldn’t be this hard. Stop being such a pathetic loser and say it!!!!!!!! </em></p><p>“I’m going to fight Lord English.” You look at the floor as you say it. You’ve never been one to avoid eye contact, but you don’t want to see her expression; you’ve spent enough time imagining the way her face might fall, or the way her features might harden in anger or resentment. You don’t want to know. You don’t think you can handle knowing. She’s silent for a while.</p><p>“So that’s what it is,” she says finally, and you look up, more out of shock than anything else. She can’t see your face, but she must sense the way your head snapped up, because she lets out a laugh of her own. “Do you really think I didn’t notice something was going on with you? You’re always a little cagey, and it’s not like I can’t say the same for myself, but really Vriska, you’ve been acting weird for a perigee. I was wondering what it was, but you didn’t seem to want to talk about it. How long have you been holding out on me?”</p><p>“I dunno,” you say, returning your gaze to the floor. “I guess I always kind of knew this was something I had to do, in the back of my mind. But I didn’t start thinking about it until -- I don’t know, I guess a perigee sounds right. It’s hard to keep track of time here.”</p><p>“Have you told anyone else?”</p><p>“Just Rose -- and before you get mad, I didn’t mean to tell her before you, she pried it out of me! She told me I should tell you but I -- I just didn’t want to mess anything up. I didn’t want to fuck things up between us before I had to.”</p><p>She’s silent. You want to say something, anything to fix this, to stop her from telling you to get out, that she’s done with you, that this moirallegiance that has saved you in more ways than one is over, but before you can speak, she finally responds.</p><p>“So, you thought being honest with me would fuck things up between us. Despite the fact that honesty is one of the key tenets of moirallegiance!”</p><p>“Look, I know, I’m sorry -- I’m a shitty moirail for not telling you, I know that, I just --”</p><p>“I never said you were a shitty moirail,” she interrupts, and you fall silent. You wait for her to say something else, anything else, and the more time passes, the closer the little flame of hope that her statement ignited in your chest comes to being extinguished. You wait, and you wait, still afraid to look at her, and then finally, she speaks again.</p><p>“Okay,” she says, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses. “Okay. So here are the facts: We will soon reach the end of our journey. At the end of that journey, we will have to fight a variety of enemies, one of those enemies being Lord English. Your plan, as of right now, is to fight him -- alone, I’m presuming?”</p><p>You risk a glance at her -- her expression is unreadable, because of course it is -- and you respond, miserably, “Yes.”</p><p>“Right,” she says. “Well. I can’t say I wouldn’t have appreciated you telling me when you started wrestling with this decision earlier on! But I also can’t say I don’t see why you didn’t.” You look at her again, and she slides her glasses up on her forehead so you can see her eyes, red and piercing, aimed directly at you. “I also can’t say I didn’t see this coming. I know you, Serket! I know you think you’re unknowable, but I know you.”</p><p>You don’t know what to say to that. It’s truer than you think she realizes -- for all your life, no matter how hard you’ve tried to hide, she has always been able to see through you. You resent her for it just as you love her for it, feelings mixing in your gut in a confusing mess of pale and red and ash and black, a roiling storm of emotions that if you’re honest, you’ve felt for her long before your time on this rock together.</p><p>“It has to be me,” you finally offer, and it comes out more weakly than you want it to.</p><p>“Does it?” she asks, her gaze still boring into you.</p><p>“Yes! I -- I wish it could be different, but it has to be me. No one else stands a chance against him! And we can’t just let him keep destroying all of reality unchecked. Someone needs to be a hero here, and that person is me. I’ll take him down while all of you get settled in the new universe, and then I’ll zap over once the threat is under control. You brought me back for a reason, right? I think this is the reason. A chance for me to finally -- to do something good, for once in my fucking life.” </p><p>She's silent again, both of you sitting quietly with the weight of what you've just said. She's not looking at you anymore, and for a moment you're terrified again, and then she sighs. “Part of knowing you is knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop you,” she says, exhaustion evident in her voice. “Even though I think this plan is reckless and stupid, I can tell you’ve made up your mind. So fine. You’re going to kill Lord English. Thank you for finally telling me.”</p><p>“You’re not mad?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m a little mad. Pissed, even. But I’m not surprised. And I still -- I still care about you, obviously, and we only have a week left before all of this goes down, so I’d rather spend it hanging out than being weird with each other.”</p><p>“So we’re still moirails, then.”</p><p>“Yes we’re still moirails, dumbass,” she says, reaching out for your hand and clasping it in hers. You hold on tightly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as relief floods into your chest. You feel lighter than you have in weeks, knowing that she knows and she doesn’t hate you. That she still wants to be with you, even if she’s angry.</p><p>“Now," she says, her tone returning to its usual playfulness, "Grab some chalk and help me with this dragon.”</p><p>You pick up the nearest piece and get to work, laughing and coloring with her the way you used to when you were five sweeps old. In one week, you will fight the Lord of Time. But for now, you are safe next to her, the girl you love most in the world, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that things are going to be okay.</p><p>--</p><p>The next few nights -- days? You use the terms interchangeably now, one of the side effects of spending three years stuck with members of a different species -- pass too quickly. You’re supposed to be sleeping more, resting up for the battle to come, but you and Terezi both spend more hours than you should awake, watching movies or talking or most often, wrapped up in each other quietly, legs entangled on the couch, her hands in your hair or your hands in hers, basking in each other’s company without acknowledging or discussing what it might mean. It’s nothing new, this type of quiet contact that toes the line between pale and something redder, but there’s a desperation to it that wasn’t there before. You cling to each other just a little bit tighter, hold each other just a little bit longer, trying to draw out the feeling of closeness that you know you’re going to lose so soon. </p><p>And then, before you know it, Skaia is in view, a tiny blue dot in the darkness, and your throat constricts so tightly you feel like you can’t breathe. This is what you’ve been waiting for, an end to the purgatory you’ve been living in for a sweep and a half, and now that it’s here, all you want is to turn the meteor back around. You want more time. You <em> need </em> more time. In mere hours you will leave the girl you love and the life you’ve started to make behind, and the thought of it is almost too much to bear. You always knew your time together was finite, an intermission between acts, a lull before the final crescendo of battle and all the chaos that comes with it, but the end always felt intangible, a bridge you would cross when you came to it. Well, now you’ve come to it, and the only thing you can do is wish you could go back.</p><p>But you can’t. You have a duty to perform, a hero's role to fill, one that is more important than any wrigglerish feelings you might be harboring. You can’t change the course of the meteor -- that’s actually cause for concern, Karkat points out, because none of you are actually clear on how to stop this thing -- and you can’t change the fate you’ve resigned yourself to. The end is suddenly very real, literally in sight, and all you can do now is wait as the seconds tick by, faster than they have any right to.</p><p>The six of you are huddled in the library for a final strategy meeting, although the meeting itself has long since ended. You remain seated around the diagrams on the table, but that’s mostly a thinly veiled excuse to spend some of your last moments together before everything most likely goes to shit without admitting that spending time together is something that any of you actually care about doing. You’re sitting in the same arrangement that you usually sit in for D&amp;D, but the time for games has long passed -- tomorrow the six of you will face a set of very real enemies, and there is a distinct possibility that not all of you will make it out alive. None of you are willing to acknowledge that, though, at least not out loud, and so you sit, cracking jokes and laughing just a little hollowly and doing your best <em> not </em> to think about the situation at hand. The conversation has turned to reminiscing, something most of you are usually averse to, but if any situation calls for a little sentimentality, you suppose this would be it.</p><p>“Holy shit, guys, do you remember when Karkat got fuckin’ <em> lost </em> in the hallways at the beginning of the trip?" Dave is saying. "God, it must have been, like, less than a month in. Woke me up with like a million Pesterchum notifications screaming about ‘A FUCKING ASININE ENDLESS MAZE OF DOORS AND HALLWAYS’ or some shit, and -- OW, Jesus fuck Karkat!”</p><p>Karkat appears to have kicked Dave hard in the shin, and while both of them are glowering at each other, there’s something behind both of their expressions that you know means that they’ll continue to be glued together for the rest of the evening. Kanaya is laughing behind her hand, and Rose isn’t even trying to suppress a grin. The two of them are seated close together, as per usual, and if Kanaya thinks you don’t notice her other hand in Rose’s under the table, she’s got another thing coming.</p><p>“<em>I </em> think we should be remembering the time that Miss Cantaloupe Robes over there was trying to sneak over to a certain someone’s room in the dark and knocked over half of Can Town in the process!” Terezi crows, sticking her tongue out at Rose. “The mayor was in shambles for nearly a perigee! Bad form, Lalonde, especially for someone like you.”</p><p>Rose actually reddens a little at that, and she looks poised to say something in return to Terezi when Kanaya whispers something in her ear that makes her blush a little more and go silent. You make a gagging motion at Terezi -- a lot has changed during your three years together on the meteor, but Rose and Kanaya needing to get a room has not.</p><p>You reminisce a while more, trading stories of your most ridiculous meteor exploits and trying your hardest to one up each other’s embarrassing stories, until Rose informs you all that you’ve got about twelve hours, give or take, before you reach your destination. She takes Kanaya by the hand, imploring everyone to get some rest before she leaves, and Dave and Karkat soon follow, pretending they’re headed in different directions but rather conspicuously knocking hands as they exit the room.</p><p>“We should probably head to bed, huh,” you say to Terezi, whose head is resting on your shoulder. </p><p>“Mmm,” she murmurs in agreement, but makes no move to get up. Neither do you -- it feels like if you leave this room, you’ll be acknowledging that the end is in sight, accepting that your time together is almost up. She doesn’t say anything, but you think she must feel it too, because she snuggles closer to you, catching one of your hands in her own. You stay like that for a while, her hand in yours, soaking up the feeling of just being close to each other as you sit in comfortable silence. You aren’t sure how much time passes before she speaks again -- it feels like an instant and a lifetime all in one.</p><p>“You better come back,” she says, tightening her grip on your hand, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think her voice sounded strained, the way yours sometimes does when you’re trying and failing to fight back tears. She’s trying to sound cheery, but it’s just a little too forced, concern peeking out from under the nonchalant air she’s attempting to put on. It makes your pusher ache -- you want more than anything to be able to change your mind, to tell her you’ll stay and fight alongside her instead, but you can’t. You have to do this. You have to do this, and deep down part of you knows the odds of you surviving are slim to none, but you quash that down and cover it with the promises you’ve been making yourself for weeks now -- <em> you’re Vriska fucking Serket, you will destroy the Lord of Time and live to tell the tale, you will come back to her victorious and be a legend for years to come.</em> You’ve repeated it so many times that it almost feels true -- after all, if you can lie to yourself well enough that even you believe it, does it really count as lying to her?</p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, of course I’m going to come back,” you say, nudging her in the side with your elbow, and you try your hardest to believe it. “We’ll have, like, a whole stupid life together in the new universe. We’ll do all that dumb shit the humans always talk about, like -- like going to the movies, and going to carnivals -- but not the kind with clowns, because fuck that -- and hiking, and snowball fights, all the other boring stuff Dave and Rose keep prattling on about.”</p><p>“Tell me more about it,” she says, and her voice is soft, so much softer than usual, her thumb running circles over the back of your hand, and you have to swallow hard before continuing. It’s unlike her to ask this of you, unlike both of you to offer the more vulnerable sides of yourselves up so willingly, but there’s something about the quiet, dark room and the knowledge that this might be the last time you ever get to be with each other like this that seems to allow it. It’s hurting you to think about this, and you think she knows just as well as you do deep down that the life you’re describing is far from a statistically likely occurrence, but she wants to hear it and you will not deny her that. You’ve already hurt her enough, you remind yourself, anger flaring briefly next to the soft and heavy feeling in your chest, just by being you.</p><p>“We’ll have our own hive, you and me, and we can decorate it however we want,” you continue, trying to ignore the tight feeling in your throat. “You can paint the outside with whatever fucked up colors you want to use, and draw on the walls on the inside, and we’ll have a whole room dedicated to working on our costumes for FLARP or D&amp;D or whatever the fuck game we end up playing. We can have the others over sometimes, but we don’t have to -- it can just be us. The way it used to be.” There’s so much more you want to say, so many things you would tell her if you could find the words, but your voice is coming dangerously close to breaking, so you close your eyes and blink back tears that you hope she can’t smell and squeeze her hand a little tighter. She’s quiet too, uncharacteristically so, and you think she might be fighting tears too.</p><p>“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers, and it’s as close to a confession as either of you are going to get. She lifts her head up from where it’s settled on your chest to face you, and before you know what you’re doing you’re pushing her glasses up on top of her head, the way you did at the waterfall all those perigees ago. This time there’s no one there to interrupt you, and both of you know, on some innate level, that this might be one of the last moments you’ll ever have together. Just thinking about that makes your chest constrict again, so you do the only thing you can think of to push the thought out of your mind, the thing you’ve wanted to do, if you’re honest, which you so rarely are, since you were six sweeps old back on Alternia.</p><p>You place your hand unsteadily on her chin, guiding her face up towards yours, and you kiss her. </p><p>It’s not pale, not on your part and not on hers. She sighs into you, wrapping one of her arms around the back of your neck, her other hand still firmly in yours. It’s different even from the few ambiguous kisses you’ve shared during your time on the meteor; this doesn’t toe the line of pale the way those did; it’s too desperate, too <em> wanting</em>. She opens her mouth into yours, and now it’s your turn to sigh as you pull her closer, twisting your body and leaning back so she’s on top of you, and she presses into you as you reach up and tangle a hand in her hair. You open your eyes as you kiss her, taking in the sight of her so close to you, trying as hard as you can to memorize her face, trying equally hard not to think about how this might be the last time -- the only time -- you ever see her like this. You feel something on your cheeks and you realize she’s crying, just a little, a single tear spilling from her cheek onto yours, and then you notice that your own eyes are stinging too. Neither of you say anything, though you know she must notice at this point -- you just cling to each other, kissing more slowly now, trying as hard as you can to make the moment last. </p><p>Eventually, both of you are out of breath, and she pulls back and turns away to wipe at her eyes, as if there’s any world in which you didn’t already notice her crying. But isn’t that how it always goes with you two? Hiding from each other in plain sight, leaving things unsaid for fear of being vulnerable, settling for the facade you’ve both worked so hard to build instead of acknowledging the fear and longing underneath. The kiss is the closest you’ve come to breaking down those walls, but even as she turns back to you, leaning down and kissing along your jawline before pressing her lips to yours softly and resting her head on your chest again, you feel them building up again. Your lips are sore and a little swollen, but you’re grateful for it, because without that feeling you’re not sure you could have convinced yourself that the last few minutes really happened. </p><p>“I’m gonna come back,” you say, as much to yourself as to her, and she stirs against you, squeezing you a little tighter.</p><p>“I’ll come find you if you don’t,” she says, her voice heavy with exhaustion, and you’re not sure if she means it as a threat or a promise. Her breathing slows as she succumbs to sleep, and just for a moment, you let yourself imagine a world where you deserve her, a world where you stay and fight next to her, a world where you open the door together and get the soft happy ending that you so rarely let yourself fantasize about. But people like you don’t get happy endings, you remind yourself. People like you get, at best, a heroic death, one final sacrifice to create a safer world for people better, more deserving than you. People like her. Sure, she’ll miss you a little, but you know she’ll be okay. You, however, you think it might tear you apart, missing her, if Lord English doesn’t get there first. But there’s nothing to be done about it. Heroism demands sacrifice, you know this better than most, and if you don’t do this, there might not be a universe to live in after the battle is won. So you will fight for her, and either you’ll make it back to her or you’ll die trying.</p><p>You didn’t quite understand the concept of human love when you overheard Rose explain it to Kanaya almost a sweep ago now, right here in this very same library. As you listen to the rise and fall of Terezi’s breathing, the comforting weight of her body against yours, you think you might get it now. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THE GIRLS ARE NON-PALE KISSINGGGGGG sorry this one took a little longer!! school has started again and i am getting busier :( there is one more Full Length chapter left to go and then an epilogue of sorts, which i will start working on soon! might be a couple weeks before those two come out, but they Will be coming i will not leave u all hanging :)) thank you everyone for the lovely comments i have been getting lately, they mean more to me than you know!!</p>
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